The Last of the Real Ones
by SharkbaitSekki
Summary: Sequel to "The Universe in Your Arms". After escaping captivity at the hands of a cruel Begnion lord, Ike and Soren encounter one last setback as they try to leave Tellius for good; Ike's precarious medical condition. That, and of course, the fact that Soren is carrying fresh trauma from their captivity that haunts his every waking and sleeping moment.


**Author's Note**

 **It only took me a year to write this sequel. But hey, it's here now. This is a direct sequel to the IkeSoren oneshot titled "The Universe in Your Arms", so read that or else you'll be very confused by some of the references in this fic. Long story short: Post-RD, Ike and Soren get captured by some dude who injures Ike p badly, and makes Soren take the Feral Drug and Soren has a Really Bad Day™ but they make it through the power of love and they adopt a daughter (who is actually a horse and whom they name Ragnell) in order to escape. Just read the oneshot.**

 **No warnings. Just a little more romantic than the other one. Still no explicit romantic gestures, but like... really really REALLY heavily implied.**

 **Title is from a Fall Out Boy song of the same name.**

 **You asked for it, and you got it. Please enjoy.**

* * *

"Soren, it's just a horse."

Ike said that, but Soren wasn't so sure. The creature that still had strands of his hair sticking out of its mouth felt like anything but the mounts that Soren had fought by in the two wars of his lifetime. The horse chewed calmly on the dark hair she'd brutally ripped out of Soren's head while he was inspecting the contents of his pack, as if she hadn't just violated Soren's personal space and physical boundaries. Her beady black eyes stared right through Soren, and there was a strangely taunting air to the way she cocked his head.

This horse knew exactly what she was doing, and had known all along. It was no mortal beast; it was a demon from the underworld.

"I refuse to believe that this cursed creature is truly just a horse," Soren barked, his scalp still aching where the horse had pulled out his hair in a clump. "It's Ashera's reincarnated form, here to deliver judgment upon us- again."

"You're overreacting," Ike crossed his arms, glancing at the horse. She just kept on chewing, unaware of her guilt- or was she? "She's probably just hungry. And she's not a 'cursed creature', as you put it. Her name is Ragnell, and I think she'd like you more if you called her that."

"Is this a jest, Ike?" Soren deadpanned. "You… You named that thing after the sword that slew a tyrant, your father's murderer, and a _goddess_?"

"I thought it was clever," Ike defended himself, patting Ragnell's neck. "That way, I could say that I still have Ragnell by my side."

"I can't do this right now," Soren concluded, feeling a headache incoming. "I'm not… I'm not even going to answer to that. Just… let's finish packing our things and head out. We should ride until dusk to put as much distance between us and Fort Tevoyne as we can."

"Are you sure you're up for that?" At least Ike seemed to have his priorities set straight, as he left the horse to her fun to follow Soren. "Our escape took a lot out of you, too. Shouldn't you rest a little?"

"I'll rest while we ride." As best as he could, of course. "You're the one most at risk of falling over mid-ride. You lost a lot of blood, and your wound could be infected. Plus, you took so many blows to the head that I'm afraid you've lost what little common sense you still had."

"Very funny, Soren," Ike snorted, pinching Soren's nose playfully to draw a protest from him. "I feel fine. My wound does hurt, but it's still fresh, so there's nothing we can do about it. I can ride if you can."

"Then let's finish up here and set off," Soren decided, glancing down at their supplies. They had been light to start with, and so the mercenaries that had captured them had not left with too many of their things; their food, of course, as well as the little currency they had. However, everything else was still there; water skins, clothing, weapons, and all their other bare necessities for outdoors survival. Soren had used some rope to fashion something of a harness for the horse, until they got something better.

"Come here, Ragnell," Ike waved at the horse, although the beast just stared at him, as unnervingly as always. Ike sighed, and went to grab her reins. "I'll teach you your name yet, Ragnell."

"Of course you will," Soren rolled his eyes, and grabbed the ropes, waiting for Ike to bring their mount over to hand him one of the ropes. "Now, we're going to have to swing these two ropes across the saddle, since there is nothing better to hold our packs for now. Your pack will go on one flank, and my pack will go on the other, along with our bedroll, therefore equilibrating the weight distribution as much as possible. The two ropes will help distribute the weight and give the packs some stability. I'll take one on my lap, and you'll take the other over on yours."

"Master craftsmanship, if I do say so myself," Ike complimented, inspecting the simple, but ingenious contraption. The lack of proper tethers would make the weight unequal no matter how hard Soren tried, which meant that the horse would likely not be able to gallop too well, but they were not being pursued anymore so it didn't really matter.

"Less flowery words, more action," Soren rolled his eyes, and although his expression didn't change, Ike could tell that he was amused. Good. They could use a bit of lighthearted banter to help them come down from the high of their escape. It had only been a few hours since they'd triumphantly ridden across the gate, and Ike felt the tiredness beginning to set it.

"Get behind me this time," he suggested, supporting Soren's back as he hesitantly put his foot in the stirrup and his hand on the pommel. "It'll make for an easier ride on both ends."

"Nothing about riding this beast is easy," Soren grunted, hoisting himself up on the saddle. Ike made sure he was sitting right before throwing his pack across the horse, and handing Soren the two ropes.

"Her name is Ragnell, Soren," Ike hummed pleasantly, getting into position to follow Soren. "Both of you will learn it soon enough."

Not willing to dignify the ridiculous claim with an answer, Soren rolled his eyes, and watched Ike hoist himself up without much effort. Although he made it seem elementary, Soren could help but notice the sudden pursing of his lips and the crease of his eyebrows. The expression was only fleeting, but Soren was painfully familiar with it. When Ike settled himself, he set a hand steadily between his shoulder blades.

"Ike." His voice left no room for negotiation. "You are in pain."

"I'm fine." Soren did not expect anything else. "Just my side. It's still tender."

"I should have inspected it before we mounted. Let me see it."

"Not now," Ike insisted, twisting to grab the second rope and pass it over his head, into his lap. Soren saw the same expression fly past him, as if he was trying to hide it. "When we stop for the night."

"Are you sure you'll be alright to travel?" Soren pressed, not convinced.

"Of course I will be. Don't worry about me, Soren," Ike sighed, then patted Soren's leg where it curved along Ike's. "Just hold on, because I don't want to have to pick you up if you fall."

Soren did not have any snarky commentary to make in response, simply doing as Ike demanded. He looped his arm around his uninjured left side, but avoided the right and simply put his hand against his hip. Holding onto his belt did the job well enough, and if he leaned his entire body on Ike, he felt a lot more stable, even with just one arm stabilizing him.

Ike said nothing, simply tapped the stirrups to urge Ragnell into a slow trot. Their rhythm was much slower than their frantic gallop during the escape, which Soren was grateful for, since his backside had already begun to ache. The rope was rough and heavy across his thighs and the friction that came with every sway of the packs only made the discomfort worse. Still, he and Ike were both alive and on the road to recovery from their terrible captivity, which was all that really mattered, regardless of aching backsides and chafed thighs.

With that thought in mind, he relaxed on Ike's back and closed his eyes. Although there was too much stimulation for him to fall asleep, he did appreciate the opportunity to rest his eyes.

That left Ike to steer Ragnell, and when he felt Soren sag against him, he momentarily mourned the lost opportunity to make light conversation to spend the time. Not that Soren ever volunteered to make small talk, and not that Ike ever required it, but he just figured that it would have helped him keep his mind off the burning in his side.

The wound still hurt, but Ike tried to hide it from Soren, if only to spare his exhausted companion the worry. He knew that Soren still felt guilty about the events of their captivity, and Ike didn't want him to dwell too hard on the past. He, too, had felt guilty for not protecting Soren better, and letting him suffer at the hands of that mad Lord Aventi, but he preferred to look forward and make sure that Soren never got hurt like that ever again.

That being said, his side still hurt like a _bitch_. With every lurch of the horse's body underneath him, a new wave of pain spread from his injury, towards his abdomen and his back. The stab had been small in size, but rather deep, and Ike figured that he must've bled internally a bit, but that didn't explain why it hurt so much. Soren seemed to think it might be infected, and Ike wouldn't discount that theory, but he'd wait and see first if a bit of well-deserved rest didn't help.

Horseback riding had never been his favourite because it took constant adjustment of body weight and balance to sync with the horse's movements. Ike admired people like Titania who ravaged entire mobs from atop a horse, but he would be unable to do it. Simple riding took all his concentration, never mind fighting. However, it was much more practical, especially in this situation where he and Soren were essentially on the run. The faster they left Tellius, the better, in his opinion, which is why he considered Ragnell a valuable addition to their party.

Despite having no particular love for riding, though, he had to admit that there was a certain peace to be found in the wind whipping his hair and the landscape rushing past him. Along with Soren's comforting weight against his back, he found no reason to complain.

This was just another part of their adventure, and as long as Ike still had Soren, he knew he'd be able to go on.

…-…-…-…-…-…-…

They stopped when the sun peaked in the sky, if only because Ragnell had started panting hard. Unfortunately having to avoid villages until they left the territories of Persis, they simply led their steed into a thicket of trees, and let her rest by a shallow stream of water. They themselves found shelter in the cool shade of some fruit trees, and it was quickly decided that they would outwait the midway heat in the shade.

"Let me take a look at your injury," Soren insisted once he and Ike had both drank their fill of cold water from the stream and had freshened up a bit. "We're currently upstream from the village across the plain, so this water is most probably safe to use to clean it."

"You don't give up, do you?" Ike chuckled lightly, effortlessly pulling his tunic off of himself. He tossed it to the side where he'd also tossed his tattered cape and worn leather breastplate, as well as his boots. Clearly, Ike had decided to enjoy the shade as much as he could.

"One of us has to be responsible around here," Soren teased, glancing at the heavy swaths of dirtied tan fabric woven around Ike's waist. He still wore the torn undershirt he'd used to provide Ike with bandages, although his bare arms still found reprieve under his robes. He would burn red like a lobster in the sun, otherwise.

Ike shrugged and laid back against the trunk of the tree, exposing his upper body for Soren to inspect. The numerous other angry slashes he'd taken for Soren had already scabbed, so there was only the stab wound to take care of, as far as Ike was concerned. Soren quietly undid the bandages, and pulled them away gently, a hiss escaping Ike's lips when the wound stuck to the fabric and pulled along with it.

Finally, when it was open to air, they both took a look. Immediately, Ike realized that perhaps Soren had good reason to be worried.

He'd sustained many gruesome injuries in his time as general of one army or the other, but this had to count as one of the worst. The injury itself had not reopened, thankfully scabbed in a thick mound of flesh and dried blood, but the bruising spread wide across his abdomen only made the red, swollen skin around the wound stand out. The wound itself was closed, but a glance at the yellow and bloody deposit pulled away on the bandages told Ike that it was leaking somewhere.

Soren gently touched the swollen skin around the injury, and Ike stiffened as pain jolted across his spine.

"Simply touching it shouldn't be that painful," Soren sighed, getting up. "As best as I can tell, it's infected. Mist or Rhys would've been able to give us more insight, but right now, it changes nothing. I'll clean the wound, and we'll rest. Then, we'll ride. As soon as we exit the Persis territory, we'll stop at the first village and get supplies."

"We're not even having lunch?" Ike whined, only half-serious. Out of curiosity, he poked the bruise, only to confirm that it was indeed painful.

"Stop thinking with your stomach, just this once," Soren answered, wetting the fabric in the stream, using a relatively smooth rock to scrub the bloody stains off of it. "According to Aventi's documentation, his soldiers are still in conflict with Lord Tantas' soldiers, and they're all most likely in the villages. We should avoid any kind of turmoil right now, especially since one side of the conflict has lost its leader. They'll learn of it soon enough, if they haven't already."

Ike didn't answer, letting Soren finish, and return to clean his wound. The jolt of cold water on overheated skin got his mind off of the conflict that Soren had described, and he was glad not to think about the only casualty that should have been avoided. Alenna, for all her good will and bravery, had been innocent. She shouldn't have had to pay for her brother's crimes.

"Ow!"

The yelp escaped him without him noticing. His thoughts blanked for a second when Soren wiped across the wound, causing pain to flash across his entire abdomen.

"I apologize." Soren's tone was low, his eyes veiled. "That's enough. Wait here. I recall having seen some fresh bandages in your pack."

Ike simply nodded, clenching his jaw at the waves of pain that ebbed and flowed across his body. When the pain subsided a bit, he lifted the swaths of fabric to glance at them, and noticed that there was more yellowish and bloody discharge on it. He didn't know much about medicine, but figured that if there wasn't any green on there, it wasn't too bad.

Soren returned shortly, indeed carrying rolls of white bandages, which looked much more appropriate for wound dressing than Soren's shirt sleeves. Ike tried not to wince too much when the bandages were wound across his abdomen, and when Soren sat back on his thighs to admire his handiwork, he let out a soft sigh.

"All this has made me really tired," he admitted. "Since we'll be here a little while, mind if I catch some rest?"

"Of course not." Soren raised an eyebrow as if questioning his intellect. "It's a very good idea for you, in fact. I'll stay up and wake you when it's time to go."

"Good." Shifting to the grassy ground, Ike grabbed his dirty cape and rolled it into a ball, which he then used to cushion his head when he pillowed it on his left arm. Keeping his injured side up, he laid down with his back against Soren's extended leg, and closed his eyes. "Look out for Ragnell, too."

"I'm pretty sure she is asleep as well," Soren grunted, glancing at the horse where she had been standing still for a while.

Ike made a non-committal grunt, and shifted to curl up on himself. Soren watched him make himself comfortable, and then opened his Rexcalibur tome to continue studying it. Despite being able to use it, he still hadn't learned all the secrets that the tome offered. Since he genuinely enjoyed studying magic, he never really complained about spending vast amounts of time on a single tome. Turning to a page explaining ether concentration, he picked up where he'd left off before their unwanted stay in the dungeons of Fort Tevoyne.

Soren let the time pass thus, keeping an eye on the shift of the shadows around him to judge the time of day. Once the sweltering heat of the early afternoon had passed, they would have to ride a few more hours for the day. Their low travel speed would condemn them to at least another half-day on the road before they got to Culbert. That meant that Ike would not be able to receive help for at least another day from now. Taking a look at his pale, sweaty face, Soren wondered if they could afford to wait that long. His expression was neutral, but he did not seem truly comfortable in his light sleep. In fact, Soren doubted that he slept at all; chances were that he was simply dozing off.

His eyes went to his tome, and he flipped to a page with casting runes. He'd only ever used Rexcalibur to blast hurricanes of ice shards at enemies, but the goal of using magic was to use a spell in many different ways. He wondered if he would be able to use this powerful tome to do some housekeeping.

The page disintegrated under his right hand as he began to murmur the incantation beneath his breath. This was one of the longer incantations, which required a lot of focus on his end and a very fine control of the ether around him. Soren tried to visualize the end result of his cast to help him guide the ether and shape it. A light green ether, typical of wind-type magic, gathered into his palm, but before it could concentrate, Soren thrust his palm up at the tree above them.

"Rexcalibur," he whispered, feeling power surge all around him, but breathing sharply through his nose to quell the magic ready to burst violently. His fingertips tingled as his body struggled to keep the magic under wraps. He needed no violence right now. "Frost," he finally ordered, and pointed his index at the branches above.

A fine layer of diamond dust began to creep across the branches above them, soon encasing the entire tree in a thin layer of ice. Soren watched it happen, but before the ice got too thick, he twisted his wrist sharply, and the ice shattered.

As the ice fell upon them in a powder, a breeze blew, Soren's hair and robes gently fluttering. The snow evaporated before it touched their skin, but the refreshing breeze carrying it managed to cool off the entire area around them. Soren felt it on his skin, and the way that Ike's back settled less tensely against his leg, he was sure that Ike appreciated it, too.

His tome remained open in his left hand, one more page missing from it. However, Soren would not have traded it for the world. Glancing down fondly at Ike's now-relaxed expression, he shut his tome, and decided that it was enough studying for one day. They would have to leave soon, and all he wanted to do was enjoy the moment of serenity he'd created in their secret hideaway, just for them. Away from prying eyes, Soren indulged in a light smile, and breathed in deep.

…-…-…-…-…-…-…

Ike did not seem very glad to be awake, but he'd climbed on Ragnell without any complaints. Soren followed him after one last drink from the stream, and they set off yet again. Not much conversation was made between them, although Soren did note that Ike remained sleepy for the rest of the ride.

He did not understand, frankly. The last thing he wanted to do after living those horrors in Fort Tevoyne was to fall asleep. The idea of surrendering to his unconscious yet again made him nauseous. Now that he knew what he could do when he was not in control of himself, he did not look forward to relinquishing that control ever again.

The afternoon advanced, and the shadow of joined figures atop a horse stretched far in front of them, black against the grass tinted orange in the dying sunlight. When it became obvious that the light would fade within the hour, Soren decided to call their halt.

"Ike." He took his hand off of Ike's right hip and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. "Let's stop to make camp nearby."

"Right," Ike sighed heavily. "I can't wait to get out of the sun. It's really hot, even now."

"'Tis the life of a living furnace," Soren scoffed.

"Hypocrite," Ike returned with a playful tap to Soren's knee. "You're the one always sneaking into my arms when you're cold."

Soren did not reply, the mental image of them entwined causing a light blush to rise to his cheeks. The embarrassment yielded to a cold emptiness, however, when Soren remembered that he'd only survived through Aventi's tortures because of the safety he'd found within Ike's embrace. He really could not complain. Ike was everything to him.

"Soren?"

Ike voice drew him out of his painful recollection, and Soren's heart tugged a little when he recognized that tone of voice; concern. He had suddenly gone silent, after all.

"Let's find a suitable spot to set up camp," Soren diverted the subject immediately. "I propose we climb that hill to obtain a vantage point upon our surroundings. From there onward, we can decide where to stop."

"Fair enough." Tapping Ragnell's flanks, Ike urged her into a faster trot, probably eager to stop for the night as well. Soren held on a bit tighter, not only to avoid falling, but also to force the apprehension out of him. If he could ride a horse at all, he would have suggested switching places and continuing on in the night, but Ike would probably have declined anyway. He would probably be adamant for Soren to get some sleep tonight, and Soren dreaded the thought with his entire being.

Ragnell stopped atop the hill, and Soren quickly identified an opening amidst the sea of trees to the east. It was a rather large gap, and so the chances of it being a suitable clearing were high. Ike seemed to have the same idea, and was already steering Ragnell towards the forest when Soren pointed out the clearing.

The forest itself was dense, and so Ike dismounted and volunteered to walk Ragnell. Soren briefly suggested that he dismount as well, but Ike argued that he hadn't rested yet, and that there was no point to both of them walking.

Their travel speed now noticeably reduced, they only reached the clearing once the light entirely died down, a bit too late for Soren's liking. Thankfully, he'd guessed right, as the clearing seemed to be a watering hole, a stream rushing down from nearby rocks to fill a shallow pond. The soil was soft and richly grassy, which, as Soren quickly guessed, bode well for Ragnell. As soon as Ike led them out of the thick trees, the horse stopped and began to tear long blades of grass out with gusto.

"I guess that solves one problem," Ike chuckled weakly, holding his hand out for Soren to take as he gingerly slid off the feasting horse. "Next, we should find something for us to eat. We haven't eaten since breakfast, and even then, porridge doesn't count as actual breakfast."

"Well, the watering hole is a pond, so it isn't likely that we'll find anything but minnows in there," Soren mused out loud. "Perhaps if we lay low, we can wait to see if game will come for a drink."

"That might take several hours."

"We could also slaughter and feast off of the demon-spawn behind us."

"Soren, I won't let you get within six feet of Ragnell unsupervised if this goes on."

"The waiting game it is, then," Soren concluded, heading for Ragnell to fumble through his pack. The horse seemed unperturbed by the shift in weight as Soren removed a second tome from his bag, focused on mowing the forest floor.

"What's the tome for?" Ike asked, swaying his hips idly to ease his tired legs.

"It's my Elfire," Soren showed him the telltale red cover of the low-level fire tome.

"Don't light a campfire yet," Ike recommended. "It might scare off any potential game, and I'm much hungrier than I am cold."

"I know that. I was going to use it to hunt, because we don't have any other type of projectile weapon lying around," Soren answered.

"Ah." That hadn't seemed to cross Ike's mind. Usually, when the Mercenaries were strapped enough for cash to resort to hunting, Rolf was the one to set out with Shinon to bring back enough game for everybody. Ike just ate. That was his share of the work. "Right."

"Come." Soren just seemed amused by his slip-up, though, and walked onward. Ike threw Ragnell a glance before following him, although they did not go far. Soren simply climbed up and sat down on a large rotting trunk by the water, dropping his tome in his lap.

"What's the plan?" Ike asked lightly, doubting that their quest to catch dinner would even be successful at all.

"We wait. When an animal comes by, I'll immobilize it from afar, then you rush in to kill it." Simple, easy. If it didn't take them until nightfall, it would also be efficient.

Ike nodded his assent, and then settled next to Soren. Their shoulders didn't quite touch, but Ike was still close enough for Soren to bask in the heat radiating off his skin. Although Soren's legs dangled respectably off the ground, Ike felt comfortable slipping off the trunk to rush at their prey, if they ever came across one at all.

Since they were to remain silent, Ike figured he may as well use the opportunity to clear his mind. Contrarily to what people thought of him when they saw him, he was rather conscious of the balance between his mind and his body, and oftentimes meditated after particularly difficult battles to ease the day's events out of his thoughts. There had been no battle today, but Ike still felt the need to relax, at least to ward off the frankly annoying burning of his side and his abdomen.

As if to prove him otherwise, the injury throbbed, and Ike exhaled softly through his mouth to ease himself through the pain. Clandestinely glancing over at Soren, he noted that his companion had not reacted, eyes closed and back straight, face set in an expression of focus.

In all honesty, Soren had been behaving bizarrely lately, but Ike didn't know how to confront him about it. He may have been good at many things, but talking to others was never one of those things. This made things doubly difficult, since Soren was also the type to deny his own suffering, no matter how obvious. Ike had witnessed the torment that Soren had endured during his short captivity, and could not believe that his companion had come out of it unscathed.

The rope burns on his wrists had faded to red patches. The bruises around his pale neck had turned green. Soren's part-laguz constitution had expedited the healing process on his body, but there was still something off about his behaviour. Ike guessed that it had something to do with Soren's insecurity of the influence of the feral drug, but could not guess further than that. It wasn't like Soren would ever have to live those conditions again. Ike would make sure of it with his life.

Some time must have passed him by. His moment of contemplation was interrupted when a suddenly crack of dry twigs drew his attention. He glanced around them, trying to pinpoint the source of the cracking, but didn't see anything in the shadows of dusk around them. The trees had effectively blocked out most of the remaining light, which made prey spotting all that much tougher. When he failed to find the source of the cracking, Ike realized that they probably would be unable to hunt in this darkness, and let out a soft sigh.

Soren stiffened next to him, drawing his attention. However, when Ike turned his eyes to Soren questioningly, Soren did not return the glance. Instead, his eyes had snapped wide open, staring straight into the darkness at something that Ike could not see. Soren did not move. He barely even seemed to breathe.

It was eerie, and Ike took a few seconds to realize why.

The red of Soren's eyes had been swallowed up by his dilated pupils, until his eyes looked entirely black. His nostrils were flaring softly to the rhythm of his slow breaths. His hands were on his tome, an occasional twitch breaking their deathly stillness.

Try as he might, it was behaviour that Ike could only describe as animalistic.

Unsure if he should speak up, Ike watched in stunned silence as Soren slowly opened his tome, hands moving fluidly very much unlike the way he usually snapped his tomes open. The pages made no noise as he turned them with calculated grace, not even glancing down at the tome until he reached the page he wanted.

His stare was riveted on the spot in the darkness, and Ike was beginning to get slightly worried. He was about to say something when Soren did, although the words that began to slip out of his lips in the lowest murmur he'd ever heard were not in common tongue. The page that Soren held disintegrated in a dusting of red sparks, and the cracking suddenly halted.

Ike held his breath as Soren continued to recite the incantation, his murmurs lost to the gentle crying of the cicadas in the trees. Finally, his body tensed, and he pointed a finger into the darkness, unhesitating as if he had locked onto his target the moment he'd seen it.

"Elfire," Soren murmured in something of a rasp. "Projectile."

The only warning that Ike got was the sudden surge of heat around them, although no flames appeared anywhere, unlike the usual way that Soren cast his Elfire spells. Then, at the tip of Soren's finger, a tiny flame appeared, burning blue from the sheer energy concentrated in it. It was the size of a pebble, but Ike did not doubt the damage it could inflict.

He blinked, and the flame had shot away from Soren, in the direction of his finger. In the darkness, a wounded animal yelped, twigs and dry leaves now crackling under its frantic rush to run away. Ike barely had time to be bewildered by Soren's achievement before Soren was gone from his sight.

He let out a sharp gasp, watching Soren jump right off the trunk and land on all fours, then dart into the night.

"Soren!" he cried out, now definitely worried at his behaviour. By the time his feet touched the ground again, there was the frantic splashing of steps through water, and more crunching foliage. At Ike's feet, Soren's Elfire tome remained face-down in the dirt. Ike swept it up before rushing blindly after his friend.

There was the sound of a body hitting the ground, and loud growling. Foliage now crunched and snapped in the telltale sound of a struggle on the ground, and Ike could not push himself faster if he tried. His injury sent horrible stabs of pain shooting through his entire abdomen with every step he took, and the pain coupled with physical effort made sweat pearl on his forehead.

"Soren!" he called out, following the noise and praying that his companion had not gotten himself in trouble. Ike had an inkling about his behaviour so far, but now he knew for certain.

The feral drug had not affected Soren just once.

"Soren!"

His final call of Soren's name heralded a loud yowl and a ruthless snap. The struggle stopped. Everything fell into silence yet again.

In the darkness, Ike saw Soren's still form, down on the ground on all four. He could not make out anything else. His expression was veiled by his hair. Ike approached him carefully, now on edge, his heart in his throat.

"Soren?"

Soren lifted his head, and his face remained shadowed. All that Ike saw was the still lump of fur under his hands and the rapid rise and fall of his shoulders. And then…

"Ike…?"

As quickly as the tension built up around them, it snapped with just one call of his name. Ike recognized that tone of voice, not because Soren used it often, but because he used it in distress.

"I'm here." Without hesitation, Ike rushed forward, until he was by Soren's side. Soren pushed himself off the ground and dusted his knees, rather pointlessly, although he stopped when blood smeared all over his pants.

He lifted his hands to his face to inspect them, and Ike saw the blood that was beginning to congeal on his palms. There wasn't a lot of it, at least.

"Do you have my tome?" Before Ike could speak, Soren interrupted him.

"Yeah. Here." Handing him the tome, Ike watched Soren flip it open, although his movements seemed choppier than before.

"Elfire," Soren began, holding out his hand. "Flame."

It was the same spell that Soren used to light their campfires, and Ike braced himself for the sudden change in lighting. When he opened his eyes, a small flame was dancing in Soren's palm, casting heavy shadows on its master.

Soren was looking at his feet, and Ike followed his gaze, until it landed on the animal lying dead between them. Upon closer inspection, Ike identified it as a fox. Its neck was clearly broken.

"I… I guess that solves the issue of food." Soren's voice sounded off somehow, but Ike couldn't quite put his finger on it. "Let's head back."

"Soren, is everything alright…?" It was a loaded question, as they both knew that things were not alright, but Ike wasn't sure how else to approach the topic. The new information that had come to light about the repercussions of Aventi's shameful acts was quite disturbing.

There was no question that Soren's predatory behaviour was linked to the feral drug, after all. In all the years that Ike had known him, he'd never lost his composure as such. By the looks of it, Soren himself was shocked into silence by what he'd done.

"It's fine." He did not sound fine. Nothing felt fine.

"Are you su-" Ike did not finish before Soren clapped his tome shut heavily, the thud of parchment cutting him off forcefully.

"I said I was fine, Ike!" Soren insisted, angry. So, so angry, at Aventi for doing this to him, at Ike for coddling him, and at himself… at himself for everything. "Just let it be."

Ike did not seem to want to let it go, though he did hold back from commenting immediately. Feeling like they might have to continue the conversation if he stayed, Soren whipped around, and wordlessly stalked off into the night, taking the light with him.

His thoughts were calming down, although his neurons still fired on overdrive trying to understand what had just happened. It didn't take a genius to figure out that Soren had given in to his laguz instincts when he'd spotted his prey. It was a textbook example of a predator's behaviour; stalking, immobilizing, and killing its prey, and Soren had done it all.

He was ashamed of himself, most of all for not being able to control his subconscious urges.

And he was scared, most of all for not realizing until now that the feral drug had left its mark on him permanently.

In retrospect, of course it would. From what Soren remembered when he was made to take it, it was a drug that had altered his entire brain chemistry in a very rapid fashion. Soren was no physician, but he knew enough about biology to know that his brain would have changed in response. He would never be able to tell what had changed, however, and that was terrifying in its own right.

The realization hit him like a boulder, and stopped him in his tracks. The forest was silent around him, and Soren's ears rang when it became obvious that he was not in control of himself anymore.

He did not know which parts of him still belonged to himself, and which parts of him had the power to overwhelm him without his consent. He was a prisoner again, locked in his own body with his mind as his jailor.

It wasn't panic that spurred him into hasty steps, but rather a numb realization. It felt like it hadn't quite sunk in yet. Soren felt cold, and the dying flame in his palm didn't quite light up the darkness around him.

He didn't even register walking back to where they had been previously, boots dragging loudly through the shallow stream of water that ran from the pond. He walked, and though he didn't go all that far, it felt like it took him a lifetime to reach Ragnell again.

The horse had wandered off slightly in search of new grass to eat, and she had apparently mowed down her fill for she was now resting on the ground with her legs bent comfortably.

"Stupid horse," Soren whispered, if only to dispel the heavy silence around him. His brain unhelpfully supplied that Ragnell was vulnerable; she would take a long time to get up from her resting position, as she had deemed the clearing a safe enough space to lie down. She was tired, overworked, and underfed despite the razed foliage around them, and Soren would just need to jump on her and bite hard enough to-

The heavy thump of his fist against a nearby tree trunk interrupted Soren's train of thought and made Ragnell turn to him in alarm. The fire in Soren's palm went out completely when he hit it once, and then once more for good measure, for the sting of the rough bark on his skin to tug his thoughts back from where they wandered.

"What's happening to me…?" he asked to no one in particular, hanging his head when it became heavy with self-doubt. "Why…?"

Nobody replied, but Ragnell did cock her head questioningly.

Soren figured that he did not want answers right now, even if there were any. He did not want to think about the events that had just transpired, and when he usually wanted to forget, he delved into extra work. With a lack of paperwork to sift through right now, however, he figured he could set up camp to occupy his thoughts.

He used up another page of his tome to set fire to a large branch nearby, which he stuck into the soft soil as a beacon for Ike, who still had not joined him. Soren had a moment of insecurity where he wondered if Ike was disgusted with him, but his rational thoughts quickly tried to convince him that Ike would never do such a thing to him.

With his mind heavy and clouded, he set off into the neighbouring trees to find some appropriate firewood.

He took perhaps more time than he should have, although the isolation helped him recollect himself before he made his way back to the beacon of light between the trees, arms full of tinder. When he was close enough, he saw that Ike had finally joined the campground, sitting against Ragnell's side and quietly cleaning out the fox meat. Soren noted that he had cut the animal to unrecognizable pieces before bringing it to camp, perhaps as an effort to soften the sight for him, and he let out a soft sigh when he realized that this was Ike's way of trying to comfort him.

The sight grabbed Ike's attention and he whipped around, bloody paring knife still clutched tight before he realized that it was only Soren. He brought the knife down, and gave him a hesitant smile.

"I was wondering if you'd gotten lost," he quipped in a low voice, following Soren with his eyes when he went to drop his dry branches by the lit stick, which was almost entirely charred.

"The light is easy to find in this darkness," Soren replied, shrugging. "I followed it back to you."

"Good thing you did. I'm almost done preparing the meat." Ike comically wiggled one of the flanks he'd already skinned and cleaned, droplets of blood flying at his feet to Soren's apparent disgust.

"Stop that," he grunted, though he did appreciate Ike's casual behaviour. It made everything seem okay, at least for now. Neither of them were going to talk about what had happened; Soren didn't want to, and Ike didn't know how- and that was perfectly fine.

Being here with him felt like it was enough for now.

Neither of them much for idle conversation, they both vacated to their tasks with the chirping of crickets as their work tune. By the time Soren was done digging the fire pit and lighting a proper campfire, Ike had gotten up to go wash the clean slices of meat and his awfully dirty hands in the pond. Soren took that time to undo their only bedroll and settle it on the dirt, trying to avoid the dampest areas of soil.

"I'm so hungry I could eat a horse," Ike announced as he returned, carrying the clean meat.

"I've got terrific news for you, then," Soren quipped, although his flat expression didn't make his statement seem like one. He prodded the fire to make sure that the larger branches had taken to flames already.

"Don't you dare."

"Not until we're desperate." Soren settled down on the bedroll with a heavy sigh, and patted the ground next to him. "Now, sit. Let's feed you before you shrivel away."

Seemingly contented with the proposition, Ike dropped down to the bedroll next to him with a similarly heavy sigh. Soren picked out a rolled-up cloth tied to Ike's pack and undid it, using it to put the meat down between them.

Wordlessly, they both grabbed the long sticks that Soren had chosen for them, and with some effort, skewered the meat on them. Then, the longest part began- that of waiting for it to cook.

"You know what would be useful right now?" was the only comment that Ike made throughout the process. "A spear."

"A lance would actually be the more efficient choice if we're to use it as a cooking appliance."

"They're the same thing, Soren. Stop trying to convince me they're not."

The rest of the time was spent in silence, indulging in the warmth of the fire and the heat of close bodies, lulled by the crackling of flames and the crying of cicadas. Finally, when the smell of roasting meat prevailed over their little camp, Ike retracted his stick and painstakingly removed the charred meat from it to bite into it with gusto.

"Ah, it's hot." He flinched away, but it did not stop him from trying for another bite.

Soren removed his from the fire as well, although he had much less appetite than Ike. On normal days, he ate very little, and now, with the recent developments, he had no appetite at all, despite not having eaten all day.

Still, Ike would berate him if he didn't eat, and Soren would have to explain, and he did not want that. Therefore, he blew the steam away from his food and bit out a small piece of meat.

Fox game was chewy and sinewy, and with one bite, Soren ranked it as one of the most mediocre meals he'd ever had. Ike seemed to be enjoying it enough, though, although Ike would probably enjoy any type of meat regardless of its source. Still, the fox had a strangely bitter taste to it, one that made it hard for Soren to swallow more than a few small bites. It made him nauseous by the time he'd gone through a third of his piece, and Soren's stomach felt full.

He wondered if it had anything to do with the lingering reverberations of snapping bones still running arcs on his palms.

"Here." Nausea turned into a ball in his throat, and Soren knew that if he threw up now, he would not be able to eat again. Handing his food to Ike, he looked away. "I'm done. You can have the rest."

"You haven't eaten much, though," Ike noted through his full mouth. "You sure?"

"Yes. You need more protein than me, anyway. You have that wound to worry about." Soren just needed to sleep to recuperate, and ideally, never wake up to face his shortcomings ever again.

Ike looked like he wanted to say something, but his instincts took over rather easily, and he plucked the strip of chewy meat straight out of Soren's hands, ripping out a large chunk of it rather harshly with his teeth. Soren's heart jumped in his throat. A strange terror filled his belly where the meat had not.

"I miss Oscar's cooking," Ike mumbled through his full mouth, oblivious to Soren's paling face. "Or Illyana's… whatever of it was left by the time she served it."

"Hm." Soren could only manage a non-committal answer, a sudden wave of exhaustion hammering in the final nail in his coffin. Still, sleep signified a surrender. He wasn't sure if he could handle that right now.

He huddled his knees to his chest to ward off the chill of the settling night, and gazed into the fiery cracks in the burning logs, watching the sparks pop blue and the charcoal dust the dirt below. It mesmerized his tired brain just long enough for Ike to finish his meal.

"Well, it wasn't great, but it sure did hit the spot," he commented, tossing his stick into the fire. Soren picked up his own stick and did the same, then turned to Ike.

"Before we turn in, let me see your wound again," he demanded more than asked. The light purse of Ike's lips proved that his guess had been right; that Ike had been trying to avoid the topic. It was worrisome in its own right. Even if Ike always made light of his health, it wasn't like him to be so adamant in hiding things, especially not from Soren.

"Can we look at it tomorrow? I'm really tired right now," Ike tried, although Soren would have none of that.

"No. Undo the bandages. I'll go fetch some water and a clean cloth."

Unsurprisingly, Ike caved in without another retort, and scooted backwards until he'd leaned against Ragnell. The sleepy horse lifted her head to glance at him, and then hung it against, closing her eyes. Ike patted her flank with a soft chuckle, and then busied himself with his undress. In the meantime, Soren dug into his pack and pulled out his water skin and a facecloth (which he had thought to pack unlike Ike because he valued hygiene to a certain degree). Then, he left Ike briefly to go collect some water from the pond.

The water was freezing, and Soren's fingers rapidly went numb. He found himself missing the warmth of the fire within minutes, and did his best to return hastily. Once he did return, he sat next to Ike, who was trying to peel the bandages off of his now-naked upper body.

"Does it hurt still?" he asked, putting his hands on top of Ike's to halt his rough movements.

"Yes. Mostly when I move, though." At least he wasn't hiding it, although he probably knew that it would be futile to lie to Soren at this point. "I don't think it's reopened…"

"Let's take a look." Soren patted Ike's hands, and Ike hesitated briefly before removing them. Soren took over the task of peeling the sticky bandages away from Ike's side.

The bandages ripped off with a squelch, pulling along several pieces of slough and scabs. The white was drenched with yellowish exudate, with occasional spots of blood. The wound, itself, looked a hundred times worse.

The opening itself was only a couple of inches long, and half an inch wide, but the skin all around it was red and inflamed, burning hot to the touch and swollen. Ike flinched when Soren's cold hands fell upon the injury, simultaneously numbing the pain and provoking it. Ike's skin itself felt like fire under Soren's icy hands, stretched taut over muscles and abdomen rock-hard to touch. The obvious discomfort on Ike's flushed, sweaty face hammered everything home.

"Ike." Soren glanced at the wound, and then to Ike, and then to the wound again. "It's infected. We need to get you to a healer. You need a staff, and perhaps even medicine."

"We'll set out at dawn tomorrow," Ike suggested, grabbing the water skin and dumping its contents on his wound, letting out a low whimper at the sudden chill of water on fevered skin. "I can hold up until we get to Culbert."

"Fine." Both of them were mule-headed, and Soren knew that Ike would not be budging from his position. "Get some rest. I'll take first watch."

"We're so far from civilization, I don't think we need a watch. The fire will keep the wild animals at bay until morning, so we have nothing to worry about." Ike patted the spot next to him, although Soren did not move, busy dabbing some dried exudate off of Ike's wound. "Sleep with me tonight."

"That would be unwise," Soren shook his head, trading the cloth for new bandages, which he focused on applying. "We should not become complacent."

"Soren, you're exhausted, too," Ike protested sharply. "I got to rest earlier today, but you haven't slept at all since our escape. You need to regain your strength, too."

"I feel fine." And he honestly did. The exhaustion did not bother him, not more than the dread of falling asleep.

"You're running yourself ragged," Ike called him out, wincing when Soren wound the bandages a bit too tightly around his waist. "Soren. Just get some sleep tonight."

"I'll try." He didn't promise results, vaguely leaving it at just that. He finished tying off Ike's bandage, and then stood up. "Get settled. I'll just go wash my hands."

To that, Ike just let out a loud yawn and began to redress. Soren left him to it, and headed off to the pond again to wash his hands, and hopefully the uncomfortable memories tied to them alongside the dirt.

When he came back, Ike had already lied down on the bedroll and had removed his sword from his waist, leaving it well within reach regardless. They had both learned from their mistakes rather quickly. The only thing that bothered Soren, and that bothered him a lot, was that Ike had moved the bedroll.

Instead of being on the grass, it was now right by Ragnell, and Ike was curled up tightly against the horse's flank. To add insult to injury, Ragnell did not seem to mind Ike at all, her head bowed and eyes closed peacefully. She seemed entirely at ease around the stranger who had essentially kidnapped her from her true master not even a day ago.

"Oh, Soren." Soren flinched out of his disbelief at the sound of his name, and glared at Ike. The latter simply patted the bedroll in front of him and smile. "Come on. I kept a spot for you."

"There is no way I am sleeping next to that thing," Soren protested, walking over so that Ike could see the clear disapproval on his face.

"That _thing_ is our trusty steed, and she happens to be very warm," Ike rolled his eyes, leaning his cheek on one hand.

"The fire is also very warm."

"But the fire goes out in the night and I always wake up feeling chilly."

"I'm not sleeping there. She'll eat my hair during the night."

"No she won't. She's already asleep."

As if to break up the argument, Ragnell whipped her tail, catching Ike's legs in its path. She let out a strange snort that could have been an expression of exasperation, but Soren did not speak horse and was not interested in learning.

"See? You woke her up," Ike sighed. "Soren, if you really don't want to sleep next to her, I'll give you the bedroll and you can go further off. But I'm not moving."

"Are… are you joking…?" Soren deadpanned at Ike, eyebrows raised high on his forehead. He had to take a moment to process what he was being told.

Had he just… lost Ike to a horse…?

Ike didn't reply, simply laid down and closed his eyes. It only served to make Soren even more irritated, to the point where his jaw hurt from clenching it so hard.

"Fine!" Groaning loudly, Soren stomped over to Ike and dropped down with his back to him. He did not like to consider this a loss, but more like a strategic defensive move. He only deflated a little when Ike's heavy arm fell across his waist, as it always did when they slept together, since Ike liked to stretch out in his sleep.

"That wasn't so bad," Ike muttered sleepily, letting out a tired sigh. "I'll see you in the morning, Soren. Good night."

"Likewise." Soren tried to sound cross with him, but the way Ike let out a low chuckle, it felt like he'd seen right through him.

He couldn't be mad. Not for this, not like this. His muscles relaxed to the rhythm of Ike's slow, deep breaths, and soon enough, his eyelids were drooping heavily. He was more tired than he'd first thought, and the desire to avoid surrendering his consciousness was not enough to keep him awake at this point. It seemed futile to try, had been futile from the moment that Ike had beckoned Soren into his arms.

Perhaps it would not be so bad to rest for a while. Soren would never admit it out loud, but being with Ike filled him with a feeling of safety like no other. If Ike's arms kept the monsters at bay, perhaps his presence would be enough to keep the nightmares at bay.

Soren surrendered all too easily. When it came to Ike, he always would.

…-…-…-…-…-…-…

Soren woke, and he was no longer in Ike's arms.

Even before he noted the cold stone walls all around him, even before the chill of the metal seat below him began to seep through his ripped clothing, even before he realized that his wrists and ankles and neck were in restraints, he became aware that Ike was no longer with him.

He tried to cry out, but nothing came from his mouth. His throat burned and locked up, and Soren gasped for air as if invisible hands had begun to constrict his airways all over again. Struggling against his bonds proved futile. His body was paralyzed and powerless, not his to control- as if it ever had been.

There was someone in the room with him, but Soren did not see them.

"You're mine."

Soren screamed, and he screamed, and he didn't even know why that voice awoke such unbridled terror inside of him so suddenly. With those two words came the memory of breathlessness and pain, of despair and rage- rage like no other, rage that crawled up from the depths of Soren's brain and nestled within each and every one of his organs.

"You're dead!" Soren protested, wanting to believe that he was right. "I heard you die!"

"And yet you're still mine." A hand suddenly materialized and grabbed Soren's chin, and by the time Soren had remembered to breathe, the rest of the body had materialized in front of him.

Limbs broken and clothing torn apart, chunks of flesh ripped from his bones and tendons showing, teeth bloody and one eye missing, ribcage cracked open for his beating heart to be put on display- Lord Aventi Tevoyne of Persis stood before Soren and held him in his place with his words alone.

"Get out of my head," Soren demanded, though his voice shook and cracked like the snap of bones. "Leave me alone!"

"You're mine." Aventi repeated, his hand sliding down to Soren's arm. Almost reverently, he pulled the sleeve of his robes up. A thousand spiders crawled where Aventi's skin caressed Soren's.

Tears fell from Soren's eyes, and he did not know from whence they came, for he had not shed any tears in some time. Aventi trailed a finger down the pristine expanse of Soren's arm, and bruises bloomed like weeds in his trail of destruction.

"Even through the afterlife, I have my hands deep inside of you," Aventi remarked, marking a spot on Soren's forearm with his thumb. "You cannot forget me. You cannot forget the things I have done to you. I still own you- your body, your mind, your heart."

"You will not have my heart!" It felt like such a useless thing to focus on, and Soren had so many other things to say to Aventi, but somehow, somehow this felt important to enunciate.

He had to hear himself say it.

"You will not have my heart!" He repeated, tears rolling off his cheeks with every desperate rise of his voice. "You will not have me!"

There was a prick through Soren's skin, and he only realized it when he glanced down at his arm.

There was a needle under his skin, and when Aventi pushed on the plunger of the syringe, Soren felt, rather than knew, what was being given to him.

Unadulterated terror took the reins on his sanity. Something felt like it was breaking inside of him, and Soren simultaneously felt anchored to his body and drifting away from it. Somehow, he felt detached from everything that was happening to him, even though he continued to scream and cry and thrash.

"You're mine," Aventi reminded him, pulling the needle out. As blood ran down Soren's arm, he began to dissipate into the air like a revenant come to haunt Soren's every waking moment. "Continue to fear my memory, and you will forever be mine."

The shackles on Soren's body snapped open, and he fell on all fours, panting. There was fire circulating through his veins, filling his chest and then his head, and Soren found himself unable to think.

His thoughts scattered when he reached out for them, waves in a raging sea of conflicting emotions. Soren did not know what he felt- only that he did. He knew that he felt, and overwhelmingly so, so intensely that his consciousness quickly yielded to his instincts.

And his instincts, they roared. They roared like a beast, and Soren let out a horrified cry of his own.

He lifted his hands to clutch at his face and drew back flinching when claws gouged marks across his nose and cheeks. Soren tried to catch his breath as he turned his hands over, watching his fingernails grow large and thick, into the claws of a beast. He bit his lip to stifle a terrified gasp, but was rewarded with a deep cut to the lower lip, courtesy of the fangs that had grown in his mouth.

"No." His voice sounded far to his own ears, as if he was speaking deep underwater. He shook his head and clutched it, more carefully this time, and a whimper escaped him when his scaled hands clutched the horns that were slowly extending from his head, carving their way out of his skull. Several other smaller horns had grown down the line of his nose, breaking skin painfully and flooding his face with blood.

Soren had no time to realize what was going on before a blinding pain in his back drew his entire attention. He fell to the floor, barely supporting himself on his forearms, his entire body shaking with the exertion of such agony, the likes of which he'd never felt before. In his cocoon of suffering and despair, Soren realized, unhelpfully, that he'd never felt this alone.

"Please!" He didn't know who he cried out to, nor why. The words escaped his rough throat on their own. "Please! Stop!"

Lightning arched across his spine, and Soren buckled underneath its burn with another cry, pink droplets of tears and sweat and blood rolling off his face and dirtying the cobblestone. Soren's breath caught momentarily as a first dorsal spike burst through his skin on his neck, and then, the spikes spread down his spine like a disease following its course. At the very end of his spine, something large bulged beneath his skin, and Soren let out another wail as a long, thick tail burst from beneath his skin. Blood and flesh splattered on his pants, his torn robes pitifully hanging off of him and his nightmarish new characteristics.

It hurt. The pain blinded Soren, so agonizing that in that moment, he wondered if it would have been better for him to die. He welcomed death now. He longed for it.

"Ike! Ike!"

And yet, no plea for death came from his lips. Simply a plea to be saved.

Wind swirled around him as wings finally burst from below his shoulder blades, displacing bones and muscles that had been holding Soren up. As the leathery appendages shook free of the blood and fluid in which they were encased, Soren finally fell on his stomach, pressing his face flushed with tears against the cold stone. He had a difficult time processing that the wings on his back were his own. He felt them move and flap off the gore as if they had a mind of their own, but he felt them like foreign bodies. Undeniably, however, they were there. Along with the tail, the horns, the fangs, the claws… they were a part of Soren.

As they always had been.

"Enough..." Soren felt like he was living a nightmare, his voice raspy and raw from screaming. His new fangs continuously cut into his gums and lips as he tried to speak. "Please, please… enough…"

Footsteps came near him, and Soren lifted his head when they halted in front of him. Eyes lidded with pain and swollen from tears, he took a moment to recognize the newcomer, and tears rose anew when he finally did.

In all his radiant glory, Ike stood above him, tall and strong and here to save him.

"Ike…" Gathering whatever fleeting strength he had left, Soren pushed himself up on his elbows, and then, shakily, to his knees. His newly-grown tail pressed into his legs when he rested his weight on his calves, glancing up at Ike like a believer would his god.

And Ike glanced down at him like a god answering the prayer of one who'd stopped praying long ago. Soren reached out to him with a clawed hand, and Ike took it, softly, gently, with all the care in the world, and knelt.

"Soren…" Soren's name on Ike's lips made his thoughts stop screaming. The hurricane in Soren's head stilled for just one moment, one moment of peace where Soren found solace again in Ike's presence.

"Ike…" His existence was unbearable. Soren could not stand living a second longer like this, like the half-monster that he always had been on the inside. His thoughts did not scream anymore, for now, but he knew they'd come back. And when they did, they would come back with a vengeance, and rob him of his self-control. He did not want to give in to himself, to his cursed blood. He would not bear to live if he didn't live on his own terms.

He welcomed death with open arms, and parted his fangs to speak.

"Please… save me…"

But it was not death that he found himself asking for, unlike the wish he'd carried in his heart only a day ago. When he'd asked Ike to kill him, Ike had instead saved him.

He prayed for that salvation once more.

"I will," Ike promised in a whisper, and his hand left Soren's.

Soren barely breathed before Ike pulled the sacred blade Ragnell from his hip and sheathed it snugly in Soren's ribcage.

Soren could not breathe through the blood flooding his lungs and mouth, but somehow was cognisant that the blade was nestled in his heart as if it had always belonged there.

"I…ke…?"

But Ike's expression no longer inspired peace within Soren. Now, his stone-cold face only spurred fear, primal terror deep in Soren's bowels, even as his wounded heart tried to pump blood around the cold blade and cold betrayal.

"Perish," Ike simply answered, watching the life bleed out of his eyes.

In the distance, Soren saw Aventi again, his face twisted in a grotesque sneer of smug victory.

"You're mine. You're mine."

The hurricane raged anew, and Soren's final thoughts were lost to the winds.

The pain felt secondary now to the rage that flowed through his entire body. Possessed by some animalistic instinct, Soren did not bother with the blade impaling his heart before pouncing forward, claws extended, jaw open in the roar of a dying, desperate animal.

Ike did not put up any resistance as Soren clawed parallel marks through his face, and pinned him to the floor. Ike put up no resistance, and yet, his expression never changed.

"Monster," he accused softly, and Soren felt a new animalistic urge welling up inside of him alongside the rage and despair and betrayal from the only person he'd ever trusted.

It consumed his thoughts and consumed his being, and Soren saw red and thought of nothing else.

His thick fangs closed upon Ike's soft flesh, and burning blood sprayed across them both when Soren tore out Ike's throat without hesitation.

…-…-…-…-…-…-…-…

Soren whimpered, and it was his own whimper that drew him out of his nightmare.

The sky was still dark above him, the fire almost entirely burned out. Behind him, Ike still slept soundly, and Ragnell -the horse- snored audibly in her sleep. Yet, Soren's heart raced in his chest, sweat beading on his forehead. He took a deep breath, but found it difficult to breathe at all. Ike's arm was still draped across his waist, heavy and comforting in any other setting, but burning hot and constricting in this one.

Soren felt like he was spiralling, nauseous and in pain and panicking all at once.

He barely registered throwing Ike's arm off and rolling away from him, shakily rising to his feet. Just to be sure, he glanced at his hand, and then touched his face. No claws, no fangs, no horns. The realization was more overwhelming than he thought it would be, and Soren felt like knees buckle beneath him.

Stumbling, he made his way away from the camp, numb and confused until he made it to the pond, where he fell to his knees in the mud. He clutched at his heart tightly, trying to breathe again, but the panic tying knots in his abdomen did not allow it.

He glanced into the water briefly, and his own red eyes stared back. No scales, no horns, no wings sprouting from his back.

And yet, the pain he'd felt was so visceral, so intimate, that it was hard to believe that it had only been a vivid nightmare. In fact, Soren could not believe it. Despite every rational thought proving him otherwise, he still could not differentiate reality from what he'd seen in his dream.

He finally began to breathe again, and then his breathing picked up, until he was lightheaded and hyperventilating. His eyes burned with tears but he could barely utter sobs between rapid breaths. His voice caught in his throat, and it frustrated him to no end. His chest hurt from all the repressed terror he still felt, from their captivity or his nightmare, he didn't know. Doubling over, he curled up on himself and pressed his forehead to his palms, shoulders and back heaving with the exertion of forcing sobs through his heavy breaths.

He felt like he would faint, and almost did. He almost did, until a heavy weight draped itself all across his back, curling around him, and shielding him. Soren only recognized Ike when his arms closed around him, holding him tight enough to hurt. And yet, with the soil underneath him and Ike above and around him, Soren finally felt grounded enough to start calming down.

Surprisingly, as his breathing slowed, the sobs receded. He let out a few more choked cries, and then breathed, breathed until his heart slowed down and his limbs slackened from exhaustion.

Only then did Ike loosen around him, letting Soren sit up on his knees. Though they untangled long enough for Soren to make himself comfortable, Ike had his arms around him again in a second, pressing Soren's back against his chest and wrapping his unclasped cape around them both like a blanket.

Soren wanted to express how grateful he was, but no words came out.

They stood in that position for a while, until Soren's mind sharpened again, and he found his words once more.

"I'm sorry."

It wasn't necessarily what he'd intended to say, but it was what came out regardless. Ike's arms tightened around him.

"Not your fault." Ike's voice was slurred lightly, probably from sleep, and Soren felt bad for waking him. "Nothing that happened was your fault."

"I should know this, and yet…" _Raging instincts and warm flesh underneath his fangs_. His captor was dead and yet his mind still belonged to him.

He must have started breathing fast again because Ike shifted the pressure of his hold to draw him back.

"Hey."

Soren hung his head, exhausted and ashamed. And scared.

"I'll say it 's many times as ya need me to," Ike hummed, dropping his cheek on Soren's shoulder. His hair tickled Soren's neck, especially when he burrowed his face against him sleepily. "You're so important t' me. Nobody's gonna hurt you again."

"What if I hurt you, though…?" Soren couldn't help but bare his insecurities, biting his lip. "I… I'm a monster, Ike… I… can't be trusted."

"That's a lie," Ike stated matter-of-factly, shifting his face to be more comfortable on Soren's shoulder. "You're no beast, you're no monster. You're jus' Soren. And I trust you more than anyone."

One last tear fell from Soren's eye, unbidden. He didn't realize it had rolled off his chilled skin until it fell on his hand. At that point, Soren looked down to see where it had fallen, and caught a glimpse of his reflection again in the water.

The moon had long since risen to the top of the sky, a myriad of stars glistening through the dark. What little light was cast by the denizens of the night sky bounced off the still waters of the pond nestled between the trees and mossy rocks. Soren saw ripples on the surface where minnows rose for food, dragonflies flittering peacefully above them, just out of reach. And in the midst of the quiet life blooming all around them, he saw himself, encased in Ike's arms, shoulders finally relaxed and tears finally dried. The was no monster looking back at him. Just himself, and Ike, whose face still lied buried against Soren's neck.

His hands clenched on his lap, and he glanced away from himself, to Ike. Noticing that he was being observed, Ike lifted his head, and met Soren's gaze halfway. His expression remained inquisitive, endearingly so. Soren was ready to bet money that they did not own that Ike hadn't spoken with the intention of comforting him- merely to tell the truth. His oftentimes brutal honesty made Soren appreciative most of the time. Especially right now.

"Thank you," he finally ended up saying, because there was nothing else he could say. In fact, it was the first thing that he'd intended to say to Ike upon his arrival, but it seemed a lot more genuine now that his thoughts had recollected into a semblance of order.

"Don't thank me," Ike rolled his eyes, and then dropped his face back against Soren's neck. He was hot, a furnace around Soren's permafrost body, and in this moment, he was all that existed.

Soren closed his eyes, and finally relaxed.

They only broke apart when Soren's legs began to cramp and crickets began to quiet down from their perches up in the trees. Silently, with their hands entwined, they made their way back to the camp, where the fire had already receded to ashes. Ragnell, who'd been waiting diligently for them, perked up upon their arrival, and Soren made no complaints when Ike laid him down on the bedroll again, this time wedging him between the horse's belly and his back. His arms remained steadfast around him, a grounding presence and a promise, one that Soren would hold him to until the end of time.

Ike believed in him, and Ike trusted him. And somehow, some way, Soren would get better; if not for himself, then for the man who was worth more to him than himself.

…-…-…-…-…-…-…

The morning brought a different kind of challenge- that of waking up.

The shade provided by the trees around them kept the breeze cool, and when Soren woke, he didn't feel smothered by Ike and Ragnell both curled up around him. The sun was already up when he opened his eyes, which was a surprise, as he usually woke much earlier.

Ike, however, was another story altogether. If Ike was given the choice, he would sleep until lunchtime.

"Ike," he grunted, patting the arm still slung around him. "Ike, wake up. We must get going."

No response came from Ike, and Soren sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Ike." Exasperated already, he wiggled in his heavy hold and turned around to face him, intent on waking him up one way or another. However, all thoughts of cheek-tapping and nose-pinching went out of the metaphorical window when Soren finally got a look at Ike's face.

If Ike had been hot to the touch last night, he looked hot to the eyes this morning, and not in the good sense of the term. Face flushed, eyelashes clumped with sweat, skin pale, he only let out a small whine when Soren touched his shoulder again, more urgently.

"Ike…?"

No response. Ike was clearly breathing, but it felt a bit shallow and rapid to Soren.

"Ike, wake up." Now fully alert, Soren sat up, and turned Ike on his back. Ike let himself be manhandled, limply lying on the dusty soil as Soren checked for a pulse on his wrist. It was present, but weak and thready.

Time had been a luxury they did not have, and yet they'd become complacent in its regard.

"Damn it all." Grunting in effort, Soren tried sitting Ike up. "Come on, get up. We need to get you medical attention."

"S'ren," Ike called out in a low voice, words chewed through his cracked lips. His skin looked so pale it was almost yellow, dark circles black under his eyes in comparison. "Don't feel good…"

"You don't look any better than you feel," Soren sighed, maneuvering Ike to sit against Ragnell's flank. The horse, who'd been watching them since they woke, turned curiously to Ike, and snorted into his hair, the sweaty strands plastering against Ike's head. "I'll get you some fresh water."

Ike might've said something, but Soren didn't hear his weak voice, rushing with a water skin to the pond. He changed whatever was in the skin for ice cold water, and then went back to Ike. He hadn't moved, eyes closed and body boneless against Ragnell.

"Have a drink," Soren prompted, putting the skin to Ike's dry lips. Mostly out of reflex, his friend began taking greedy gulps, and Soren figured that the fever must've dehydrated him overnight. In retrospect, he'd been blazing a temperature for quite some time.

Perhaps Soren should have acted earlier.

When Ike pulled away, Soren dumped the rest of the cold water right over Ike's head, jolting him to reality with a sharp cry.

"Soren!" he whined, shaking his head. He seemed more alive, at the very least. "What was that?"

"You're weak from the fever. You need to cool down," Soren defended himself. "Now. Get up. We must hurry to the nearest village and get you a healer."

"What's goin' on?" Ike grunted, trying to move, but finding himself struck in place by pain radiating all across his abdomen. "Wasn't this bad last night…"

"The infection must've gotten into your blood," Soren figured. "Rhys would've been able to explain it better, but all I know is that your heart could stop if we don't get you to a healer right now."

"Alright, I get it, imminent death," Ike sighed. "How original."

His snarky response was cut off, however, by a loud cry of pain that escaped his lips unbidden when he tried to push himself up. Sweat broke anew across his forehead, and his hands flew to clutch at his side urgently.

"Ike!" Soren was at his side in a second, pushing his hands away.

Ike's heavy breathing picked up as Soren tugged his tunic up to glance at the bandage, and he bit his lip when he was the spots of pale yellow fluid beginning to leak out of the bandage. The skin on Ike's abdomen was red and stretched thin across his muscles, harder to touch than Soren remembered. Every ghost of Soren's fingers caused another wince to pervade Ike's expression.

"Get up." Soren did not know how else to convey their urgency at this point. "We have to go- now."

Saving whatever response he had in mind, Ike took deep breaths through his nose as he stood with Soren's help, one arm still looped around his midsection. His knees shook when he stood, back bent to alleviate his abdominal pain, and Soren couldn't help but marvel how even the Hero of Tellius had been brought to his knees by a simple infection.

Heroes and Kings were mortal, after all, and that made the situation feel that much more ironic to Soren.

"Come on, Ragnell, get up!" Soren urged the horse, not sure how to approach her. Ragnell snorted and watched him with her black beady eyes, and Soren groaned in frustration. "Get up, you stupid animal!"

"Be nice to her, Soren," Ike chuckled breathlessly. "She won't listen if you yell."

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Hey, Ragnell," Ike called her, letting a low whistle escape his lips. "Come on, girl. Let's ride."

To Soren's absolute dismay, their mount actually obeyed, pushing herself to two legs and then four, slowly. Once up, she shook herself free of dirt and pawed at the ground.

Soren hated the damn thing, but she was their only way out of this, and so, held his tongue.

"Walk," he ordered curtly, helping Ike stumble towards the horse.

"Lighten up, Soren," Ike mumbled, stopping at the saddle and making a move to get up on it. "I'll be fine."

Soren didn't dignify that with a response. It was embarrassing enough that he was getting so emotionally compromised over what should've been just another injury. His time in the Tevoyne dungeons really must've affected him in several lasting ways.

He shook that train of thought free from his mind. He did not have time to dwell on his own nightmares; not when Ike's life was on the line.

It was slightly difficult, but Ike managed to get up on the saddle with Soren's help. Once he was settled and practically slumped over Ragnell, Soren made quick work of gathering their meagre supplies from around the camp, and loaded Ragnell's makeshift packs. Getting up behind Ike was a piece of cake in comparison.

"Can you ride?" Soren asked him as he looped his arms around him, careful not to put too much pressure on his wound.

"I'll try," Ike grunted, clicking his heels to get Ragnell to start walking. "Hold on tight."

Despite instructing him so, Ike didn't go very fast. With the small, sharp breaths that escaped him once in a while, Soren figured that the undulations of the horse's movements were jarring his injury. Ike said nothing, however, suffering in silence. Soren figured that he didn't want to worry him any more than he already had, although every attempt to hide the extent of his pain only made Soren more concerned.

He felt so powerless.

They exited the forest, onto the plain from which they'd entered the day before, and Soren had trouble seeing far in front of him due to the hills dotting the region. He did not know exactly where to go, only that they were to head east until they reached Culbert.

"Let's ride east," he suggested, wishing he had a map in his hands. "We'll fall upon a village at some point for sure."

"Yeah." Ike's response was clipped and punctuated by a heavy pant. It tugged at Soren's heartstrings, but if Ike was making such an effort to stay composed, he had no right to do any less.

Ike snapped Ragnell's reigns and eased her into a gentle trot, slow enough not to hurt him too much, and fast enough to make Soren feel like they weren't powerless.

They rode under the midday sun, never stopping. Ike's body shed heat waves more burning than the sun itself, and Soren had to hand him a water skin several times during the ride to quench his dehydrated body. His back was drenched in sweat, but they had both been through so much worse, and Soren clung onto him like a lifeline regardless.

When Ike began to sway, Soren dumped the rest of their water over his head, to Ragnell's immense displeasure. When he began to pant to catch his breath, Soren undid the clasp of his cape and took it off of his shoulders, if only to lighten his load a little. When he let out small whines of pain, Soren tightened his grip on him, and hoped that if nothing else, he could soothe some of Ike's suffering with his presence at his side.

When Ike's body finally gave out and slumped over Ragnell lifelessly, Soren was there to catch him, and hold on to him like he was worth more than the entire world.

It happened without warning, and Soren barely reacted in time as Ike swayed and then fell forward. He wound his arms tightly around his chest and pulled back, trying to rebalance their weight so that Ike did not fall off the moving horse.

Ragnell herself seemed disturbed by the sudden shift in weight, suddenly stopping and throwing her mane, nervously pawing at the ground.

"Keep going!" Soren urged her, grunting as he struggled to hold Ike's heavy weight up. His companion was breathing fast and shallow, sweat dampening the skin across his entire body and fever flushing his cheeks red, a bloody hue that contrasted violently with the sheet white of his skin. His heartbeat went wild against Soren's chest.

Ragnell pawed at the ground again, snorting. She didn't move, obviously uncomfortable with the dead weight on her.

"Come on!" Soren yelled urgently, glancing around them. No towns were in sight yet. They were absolutely lost, and Soren had no idea how to resolve their situation. His infallible wits had failed him just this once, when it mattered the most.

Overcome with a sense of isolation like no other, he gritted his teeth in desperation. The loneliness of being stuck out here with Ike's dying body in his arms was nothing in comparison to the thought of losing Ike for good. Soren wouldn't be able to bear it. He couldn't lose him. Not like this. Not ever.

"Please," he begged, feeling slightly foolish for bargaining with a horse. "Please, I need you to help me. Ike is going to die if I don't get him to a healer. So please. Please help me save him."

Ragnell snorted, and craned her neck to look at Soren briefly, and then lowered her neck. Heart beating fast, Soren eased the reigns from Ike's loosely-clutched grip, and snapped them. Ragnell put her head up and took a few steps forward.

Relief poured over Soren like a cool balm, and he thanked Ashunera for this stroke of luck.

He readjusted Ike so that he was slumped against him, and although Ike's body was bigger, Soren was filled with a new determination to get him to safety. He could do anything like this.

"Let's save his life," he ordered Ragnell, snapping her reigns. She neighed in what Soren supposed could pass as acquiescence and sped up. Soren's heart soared as his hair caught the light breeze.

He held onto Ike with one arm and onto Ragnell with the other, and somehow, as his entire body bumped up and down on the saddle and they rode onward, he felt like he could do anything.

They rode for a while, although Soren was too focused to tell how long it had been. The landscape all felt the same to him, the vast fields of Persis running by his without even registering in his mind. He was so concentrated on finding a village amongst the wilderness that nothing else seemed to matter.

Finally, salvation was spotted at the horizon, and Soren thanked the stars for the stroke of luck as he steered Ragnell towards that direction. As they got closer, Soren realized that salvation was a stone fort, similar to Aventi's in design, and his blood seemed to coagulate in his veins. However, they did not have the luxury to be picky. If the fort was inhabited, he would take it.

The last few minutes seemed to be the longest, where Soren wondered if the distance between them and the fort was actually widening as they rode. It seemed like an eternity before the first guards came into sight, manning a gate scarily similar to Fort Tevoyne.

Soren tried to still his palpitating heart and swallowed his fears. Slowing Ragnell down a bit clumsily, he met one of the guards halfway as he came out to meet him.

"Ho, traveler," the guard greeted. "What business have you in Fort Tantas?"

"Tantas…?" Soren frowned, and then the memory clicked in place. His face blanched, almost mirroring Ike's in its pallor. He'd ridden them right into the jaws of the wolf while running away from a lion.

"You are currently on the private property of Lord Cuiper Tantas. If you have no business, do vacate the premises," the guard warned.

Soren had no choice. Ike's heaving body beneath him would not hold out much longer. His friend was sick, and he'd trusted Soren to save him. No matter what, Soren wouldn't let him down.

"I request audience with Lord Tantas," Soren gritted out, determined to manipulate his way to safety if he had to. "My companion and I have slain his adversary, Lord Tevoyne, and have come to request compensation."

That seemed to shock the guard, and Soren knew he'd played the right cards when his grip loosened on his spear.

"R-Right." Seemingly thrown aback, the guard nodded. "Allow me to lead you in. Our master will be glad to see you."

"Hurry up." They didn't have any time to spare, not with Ike's condition deteriorating so quickly.

The guard led them through the gates, and Soren breathed a sigh of relief when an assembly came to greet them.

"This man wishes to speak to Lord Tantas. He claims to have slain Lord Aventi Tevoyne," the guard explained to the group that massed around them.

"Is there a healer amongst you?" Soren immediately skipped straight to the point. "My companion is gravely ill and will not survive long without medical attention." He may have been overdoing it a little, but the sudden panic in the eyes of the people around him was strangely satisfying, even if their crowding presence made Ragnell uneasy. She pawed at the ground and planted herself solidly, shaking her mane nervously.

Soren wanted to agree with her, but couldn't vocalize anything right now. He simply had to look self-assured, and hope that his gambit paid off.

"You!" A new voice came towards them, and Soren turned his eyes to see a woman in armour walking towards them, sword drawn. Her stance was harsh, and threatening, and Soren instinctively put a hand on the tome at his waist, just in case.

However, she stopped at the assembly and pointed to a random guard.

"Don't simply dawdle around like headless chickens! Fetch the healers, man!"

Squawking apologies at the imposing woman, the guard rushed off, which left the others to stand around waiting. Obviously, the woman carried influence.

"Master Soren," she addressed him, shocking Soren out of his wits when she immediately recognized him. He self-consciously lowered his head lightly, only to cover up the sight of his Brand, but she didn't seem to mind, her gaze still steeled and determined. "I am Sienne, captain of the guard to House Tantas. On my honour, I swear to you that your companion, Lord Ike, will be safe."

Soren frowned, definitely not inclined to trust someone who had recognized both of them at first glance, and who carried herself with so much authority. He'd had one too many recent bad experiences with people of the like.

"Men!" She then turned to the small assembly of guards around them, sheathing her sword and putting her hands on her slim hips. "As second-in-command of Fort Tantas, I authorize these men to receive asylum within its boundaries. Should either of them be harmed on my watch, I'll see to it that proper retribution be given out!"

"Yes, Ma'am!" The resonating cry rang around them, and suddenly, the soldiers were rushing to help Soren and Ike off of Ragnell.

The sudden movement irritated Ragnell, making her neigh nervously and then rear. Soren, not having expected it, let out a small cry of surprise and slipped off the saddle. His heart sank as weightlessness took hold of him, and he clutched tightly onto Ike as he fell.

To their minimal credit, the soldiers tried to break their fall, although they didn't do much. Soren impacted a few limbs, but ultimately landed on the cobblestone, breath knocked cleanly out of his lungs. Ike landed right on top of him, robbing him of his breath a second time, but Soren could only hold on, even as people tried to tear them apart.

It was nightmarish, terrifyingly reminiscent of the first time they'd been torn apart.

"Ike!" Soren called instinctively, clutching his companion tighter. Hands also snaked around him weakly, and Soren recognized those arms- he'd recognize them anywhere.

"Soren," Ike weakly mumbled, feverish and delirious, but still alive. "Soren, what's…?"

Hands closed upon Ike and pulled him away, and Soren's breathing hitched. Rationally, he knew that he was being taken away to the medical wing, but emotionally, seeing Ike torn away from him again was unbearable.

"Soren!" Ike's eyes were open, clouded with sickness, but his tone was desperate, and Soren's heartstrings tugged.

"Ike, it's alright," Soren assured him, scrambling to grasp his outstretched hand. "It's alright. You're going to be alright."

"Soren," Ike repeated, clinging tightly even as the rest of him was manhandled onto a stretcher that arrived with several healers. "Soren, Soren!"

"I'm here," Soren promised breathlessly, exhaustion hitting him in the face all of a sudden. "I'm here. You're alright, I promise."

"Soren…" Ike's eyes were slipping shut again, and Soren struggled to keep holding on as the stretcher was lifted off the ground. He rose as well, but his knees remained shaky, and he almost stumbled. "No one… will hurt you."

His words slipped out in a whisper, but they were enough for Soren to freeze in place in shock. His hand slipped free of Ike's, and Ike's fell limp as he passed out. The stretcher left with barked orders from the healers before Soren could even react to the turmoil festering inside of him.

He didn't know how to feel about Ike's unwavering loyalty. Even when he was dying, he still promised to protect Soren.

Soren was yet again taken by the sense that he didn't deserve someone as amazing as Ike by his side. And yet, he was so glad he was.

His world began and ended with Ike.

"Master Soren."

Snapping out of his shocked trance, Soren whipped around to face Sienne, who was scrutinizing him.

"I should follow Ike," Soren suggested weakly, still too shaken to regain his composure. Sienne put a hand on his upper arm to steady him, but Soren immediately shook it off, heart racing.

"No. You will come with me." She glanced at Ragnell, who was being difficult and was resisting the soldiers' attempts to lead her away.

"I will do no such thing," Soren seethed at her. "I have not asked for your mercy, milady. You will not keep me away from Ike, if that's what you think you'll be doing."

"I have no intention of keeping you away from your… companion, Master Soren," Sienne finally let a small twitch of her lips grace her face, though Soren couldn't care less. "I simply think you should let the healers work, and in the meantime, regain some of your strength as well." She turned back to Ragnell, who was neighing loudly in protest. "If I may ask you to corral your mount as well, that would be appreciated. She doesn't seem very cooperative with my men."

Soren hated to admit it, but she was right. As much as he wanted to be by Ike's side and never leave it, the healers needed space to work. Most likely, a mix of traditional medicine and staves would be required to heal such a complex condition, and so Soren would only get in their way if he stayed with Ike.

Still. It didn't sit right with him not to do anything whilst Ike suffered somewhere else entirely.

"No need to look so pensive, Master Soren," Sienne reiterated. "I shall lead you to him soon enough. I know how important he is to you."

"You know nothing," Soren spat back at her finally, and whipped around to go for Ragnell.

The horse was struggling against the men tugging on her reigns, neighing and rearing to try and get away from them as they tried to coax her towards the stables.

"Enough of that," Soren groaned as he approached, the soldiers watching as he neared the horse and put a hand between her eyes. Ragnell immediately stilled, and let out huffs to try and catch her breath. "Ragnell, quit being difficult. First, you fight us because we cannot care for you, and now, you fight people who want to care for you? Make up your mind, you stupid animal."

Ragnell snorted at that, and shook her mane again, Soren's hand falling off of her. He instead put his hands on his hips, glaring at her.

"Go! Away with you!" Soren shooed her towards the stables where a stable boy was already seemingly nervous to receive the unruly horse. "We'll get you when Ike is all better."

To that, Ragnell snorted, and leaned forward, grabbing a mouthful of Soren's hair in her yellow teeth and tugging.

"Ragnell!" Soren roared, pushing her snout away and tugging his hair back towards himself. "I take back everything I ever said to you. Return to the flames of hell from which you came, you beast!"

Ragnell snorted again, and Soren swore she was laughing at him at this point. The guards watching the comical display were also thrown aback, caught between laughing or being very, very confused by the horse's almost human-like behaviour.

Finally, the horse bowed her head and bumped Soren's waist with her snout in a meagre apology, one that Soren begrudgingly accepted as the horse walked off towards the stables, accompanied by a guard.

"The rest of you lot can find something to do," Sienne cut in immediately, all soldiers snapping into readiness. "Go train, you'll never be any good if you stand idle like this."

"Yes Ma'am!"

And finally, the last of the crowd dissipated. Soren could not say he was unhappy to see them go; on the contrary, he felt like he could finally breathe. Straightening his robes out from Ragnell's roughhousing, he tried to steel his posture and turn to face the captain of the guard without losing his composure.

"Captain Sienne," he addressed, putting a hand on his hip, where his Elwind tome hung on its sheath. "I would ask that we skip the pleasantries and resolve our business immediately so that I may rejoin Ike's side without delay."

"Of course." The woman before him actually seemed amused, although only a faint softening of her expression hinted to it. "There is not much I would require of you, Master Soren. Truly. Walk with me, and I shall explain."

"Where to?" Soren asked, narrowing his eyes.

"To meet my master, Lord Cuiper Tantas." Her gaze met his in a challenge, as if daring him to decline. "He will want to meet the men who won the war in his name."

Soren wanted to insist that it had never been in his name that they had fought and suffered, but the least he gave away to these people, the better it would be. They just needed to get Ike healed, and then, they'd be off.

"I will follow your lead, then," he agreed, and fell into step behind her.

The two of them held no conversation as they traversed the courtyard towards the main fort, the sounds of training men swallowing any potential attempt at talk. Soren took the time to observe around him, taking in the layout of the fort- uncannily similar to Fort Tevoyne- and the state of the soldiers doing their drills or sparring in circles.

His legs ached by the time they reached the fort entrance, cramping from the exhaustion in his entire body. Whether or not Sienne actually noticed his discomfort, she thankfully did not slow down to accommodate him. Soren would hate to be a recipient of her pity.

Finally, they entered the fort, and Sienne closed the door behind them, drowning the noise of the courtyard behind the heavy oak. Soren did not realize how much he'd missed the blissful silence until Sienne's voice reverberated off the stone walls.

"Come with me," she ordered, leading the way. "Lord Tantas will want to know how you came to slay Lord Tevoyne. Of course, one of our spies has confirmed that Lord Tevoyne no longer lives, but we have not received further reports until now. Perhaps you will be able to shed some light on the situation."

"Very well. If that is all you require of me, then I must oblige," Soren acquiesced, following her.

"Excellent. If all goes well, you will be welcomed in House Tantas as guests for as long as you like. If you truly are the herald of our victory, then Lord Tantas will spare no riches for you and your companion."

"We do not desire riches," Soren spat distastefully, hating how she clearly seemed to be buttering him up, trying to hook him with shiny promises. "We only intend to stay until Ike's full recovery, and we will be gone not a moment later."

"As you say," Sienne shrugged lightly, taking a sharp turn down a well-lit corridor.

The conversation died there, and Soren turned his attention to his surroundings once more. Unnervingly so, the tapestries and wall-mounted torches gave Fort Tantas the same atmosphere as Fort Tevoyne, although Soren figured it was to be expected, as the two forts were architecture of the same region. The thought did nothing to soothe the tightness in his limbs, though. Standing in any scenery even slightly reminiscent of the hell that was Fort Tevoyne had Soren on edge.

Sienne led him through several hallways and a staircase, until finally, she stopped in front of an ordinary-looking door. It seemed to be their destination, however, as she knocked three times, and stepped back.

"Enter!" The voice from behind was faint, but most definitely that of an older man. Sienne opened the door, and Soren followed, immediately putting his guard up.

"Lord Tantas. I've brought Master Soren to meet you at your request," Sienne announced as they stepped in, closing the door behind Soren. Soren glanced around the room, which seemed to be a study of sorts, before his eyes landed on the man at the desk.

Whatever he was expecting, he certainly did not expect this.

"Oh ho, thank you, Captain!" Lord Tantas clapped his hands together, glancing up at Soren with a twinkle in his eyes. Possibly in his mid-fifties, Lord Tantas was a scrawny gentleman with thin grey hair, round glasses, and wrinkles around his eyes. He wore a smile that slotted perfectly on his face, although the sight of it sent shivers down Soren's spine.

He could not place the uneasiness he felt, although there seemed to be no apparent reason to be uneasy.

"Master Soren, welcome to my domain." Standing from his desk, Lord Tantas approached Soren, seemingly ecstatic for some obscure reason. "It is my pleasure to have you and Sir Ike as my honourable guests."

"Lord Tantas, kindly cut the pleasantries," Soren cut him off ruthlessly, placing a hand on his tome only by instinct. Behind him, Sienne's armour clanked immediately, although Lord Tantas put a hand up in response.

"Captain Sienne, at ease," he ordered, waving her off. "I understand Master Soren's haste. It must have been quite a journey to get here, and he is most likely exhausted. I will keep this brief."

"Appreciated." Soren nodded, pursing his lips. "Now. What would you like to know?"

"Well, firstly… I must thank you for defeating Lord Tevoyne. With his fall, my succession as Duke Persis is assured. I owe the victory of my army to you and Sir Ike."

"The circumstances of our time in Fort Tevoyne forced our hand. Slaying Lord Aventi was to our benefit first and foremost," Soren clicked his tongue, disliking the man's mannerisms already.

"It seems our interests lined up. I thank you regardless." Bowing his head lightly, Lord Tantas gave Soren another smile. "Now, do tell. How did it happen, exactly?"

Immediately, flashes of fangs and mangled flesh invaded Soren's brain, images that he promptly attempted to suppress lest he display his terror on his face.

But the flashes returned, relentlessly so, becoming clearer and clearer the more Soren tried to push them away. The flashes became memories, and the memories became visceral. Soren looked straight at Lord Tantas, but he smelled blood, felt impacted flesh under his fingernails, heard Ike calling his name so desperately…

"Master Soren."

With a gasp, Soren shook himself free of the terrifying recollection, balling his hands into fists to hide their trembling. He quickly regained his composure, but judging by the worried look he received, he hadn't been fast enough.

"Master Soren, is everything alright?" Lord Tantas ventured to ask, putting up a hand towards Soren. Soren, in turn, immediately bristled, taking a minute step back, which prompted the older man to back off. "You're so pale all of a sudden. Has something happened?"

"It's nothing of your concern," Soren answered gruffly, hating to admit weakness. Psychological weakness, at it, too.

He wished these waking nightmares would just leave him alone already.

"Captain Sienne, please go prepare the chambers for Master Soren. He looks exhausted," Lord Tantas ordered, to which Sienne nodded, and exited.

That left Soren alone with the Begnion lord in his study, and suddenly, Soren felt like he was suffocating more than ever before.

"What happened to you, Master Soren?" Lord Tantas frowned, concern etched into the lines of his face. Soren hated that expression directed at him. Especially since the noble was able to make his concern seem genuine.

Nothing he did nor said could be genuine. The Begnion aristocracy would never cease their manipulative games, and Soren refused to fall another time for their deceit.

"I will answer your question, and then I will take my leave," Soren warned, gritting his teeth. "Regarding how we slew Aventi."

The lack of proper title was not missed on Lord Tantas, whose frown deepened at that.

"Ike and I escaped imprisonment within Fort Tevoyne, and in his haste to halt our escape, Aventi unleashed his wretched Feral Ones. However, he himself fell to their claws when we managed to outrun them. That is all." It was a fairly redacted version of the events that actually transpired, but it would do. Lord Tantas had no claim to the reality of the horrors within Fort Tevoyne. He had no right to be aware of Soren's and Ike's suffering.

"I see. I am deeply sorry that you and Sir Ike had to undergo such treatment. Lord Tevoyne has always been known for his ruthlessness for all but his sister…" Lord Tantas sighed, clasping his hands behind his back. "By any chance, do you know what is of his sister, Lady Alenna Tevoyne?"

"She perished alongside him," Soren mercilessly admitted, and then spun around to leave, not missing the sorrow that befell the older man's expression.

"Oh… That is terrible indeed. Lady Tevoyne was a wonderful woman…"

Uninterested in Lord Tantas' mourning, Soren put his hand on the doorknob, preparing to leave. Just as he pulled the oak door open, Lord Tantas stopped him once more, with yet another question.

"One last query, Master Soren."

"What is it?" Soren bit back, tiring of idle chit-chat. He ached to return to Ike's side to be sure that he was alright, proper manners be damned. If Lord Tantas dragged this on a moment longer, Soren would storm out of the study, regardless of consequences.

"I've heard rumours, and I'm not one to believe them until I confirm them. I hope it is not too impersonal for me to ask, but…" Lord Tantas seemed a bit conflicted, wringing his hands nervously. Soren narrowed his eyes suspiciously at him, but said nothing until the older man continued. "Master Soren… that mark you bear on your forehead… is it…?"

Soren said nothing.

His heart leapt in his ribcage rather violently, and he threw the door open without restraint to stomp away from Lord Tantas.

…-…-…-…-…-…

Waiting for Ike to wake up was probably the longest wait Soren could remember in a long time. He wasn't sure if he should be worried or not by the fact that Ike had not opened his eyes since their arrival. He was simultaneously glad that he was resting, and worried that his fever was getting the best of him. The healers had given him an extensive report of Ike's condition, and although Soren was no healer, he recorded all of the tiniest details in his mind, in case he had to worry about them later.

For now, they both had their work cut out for them. The infected wound on Ike's abdomen had not caused major bleeding, but it had been an aggressive infection, progressing quickly to his entire abdominal wall, and soon enough, into his blood. Soren didn't know that an infection could progress so quickly, but he admitted that their sub-optimal circumstances after their escape hadn't helped Ike's system fight off the bacteria that had festered in his wound.

The healers had done their absolute best, sparing no effort even without Soren breathing down their necks. The gruesome yellow and white wound bed had been debrided, now looking a healthier red and ready to heal. Ike's abdomen had softened a bit, no longer stretched taut and swollen. His persistent fever was probably the cause of his depressed consciousness, but the healers had given him traditional medicine and antibiotics, and were confident that he would wake once the fever broke.

That brought Soren to his current state of being, which was, of course, a state of complete uselessness. The healers had worked with a mix of magical and traditional healing, and all that magic could accomplish had already been accomplished. Even if Soren picked up the nearly-depleted staff he'd abandoned at the foot of the stretcher again, nothing would change. Not for now.

He was usually good at waiting, but his patience really felt thin. He wished the time would pass faster so he could make sure Ike would be alright. Also, his legs were numb from sitting cross-legged next to him for so long. He couldn't wait until Ike got moved to an actual bed, off of the twill stretcher barely off the ground that could hardly contain his hulking figure.

The clouds outside parted to let the moonlight filter in through the wide window opening in the infirmary. The light illuminated Ike's flushed face, and Soren was able to discern the tenseness of his jaw, which indicated pain, even in unconsciousness.

He sighed. There wasn't much else to be done. Ike would have to endure it.

In the meantime, with nothing else to offer but company, Soren scooted as close as possible to Ike's side, and set his head down on Ike's thigh, avoiding his abdomen for obvious reasons. With his free hand, he gently gripped Ike's limp wrist, and watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest until the clouds rolled in again, and Soren drifted off in the darkness. He fell asleep with Ike's steady pulse beneath his fingertips.

…-…-…-…-…-…

The most tiring part of having nightmares, in Soren's opinion, was that at some point, they became repetitive. They became repetitive, and somehow, still instilled such terror within him. At this point, he was so familiar with the particular nightmare haunting him recently, that when he woke up crumpled in a cold, damp cell, he was acutely aware that he was dreaming.

His brain was acutely aware that this wasn't real, and yet, he couldn't snap himself out of it. He remained frozen in his crouched position, fighting himself as the dream unfolded. He didn't want to see whatever followed. He knew it would only play on his deepest insecurities, and he knew that he would allow it to.

He felt so powerless, stuck inside his own mind as such.

By the time his dream self had pushed himself off the ground, Ike had appeared in front of his cell. He seemed unscathed. Healthy, even. Soren approached him carefully, not sure what to expect.

"What will it be this time?" he asked wearily to the figure created in front of him. "Will you call me a monster? Will you scorn my half-blooded existence? Will you regret saving my life back then? Will you curse me for getting us into this trouble?" He was already exhausted, even before he finished speaking.

The Ike of his dreams said nothing. From the other side of the iron bars, he simply stared at Soren, wistfully, nostalgically. As if mourning him, as if missing him, even though he stood right there.

Fuelled by the tugging in his chest at that thought, Soren reached out through the bars. His hand was just shy of grasping Ike's shirt when Ike stepped back, just out of reach. The fabric of his shirt brushed Soren's fingertips, and suddenly, his entire body felt cold.

"I came to apologize," Ike finally said, still looking at him like that, like he had lost something precious that he knew he'd never get back.

"What for?" Soren frowned, pushing himself as close as possible to the bars. Ike's expression was difficult to discern in the dark, but with the impossible clarity that plagued the details of Soren's dreams, he was able to pinpoint the moment when Ike's expression turned to one of resignation, and acceptance.

"I'm sorry, Soren."

And he turned around, striding off.

"What for, Ike?" Soren called after him, eyebrows furrowing. "Ike? Where are you going? Why are you apologizing?"

Ike did not turn back, and his steps never faltered. Soren called him, again and again, until he disappeared into the darkness.

The cell felt a hundred times colder as Soren realized that he was alone. However, he sat down, back against the cell bars, and waited.

This was a dream, and a tame one at that. All he had to do was outwait it. Nothing horrifying or gruesome had happened. He had nothing to fear.

He was simply confused, and perhaps apprehensive.

He waited.

He waited, and he waited, and he waited.

He waited, and when his back hurt, he leaned against the wall to wait. When his neck hurt, he lied down to wait. When his hips hurt, he turned around to wait. And he waited. He waited.

He waited, and it felt like years were passing within this dream. The wait itself was torture, accompanied by the confusion of Ike's disappearance, and the fear that at any moment, something terrible would happen. Even when he became too exhausted to lift his limbs, he still felt on edge and high-strung, waiting, and fearing whatever it was that he was waiting for.

And it was unbearable. The silence, the emptiness, the loneliness, it felt all too much.

Soren thought he'd been dreaming, and perhaps he still was, but suddenly, there was a crushing sadness in the center of his chest, one that punched the breath right out of his lungs and caused him to double over himself in a near-convulsive motion.

He didn't understand, but he began to cry, loud and heavy. He didn't understand the crushing sadness in his heart, nor did he understand the weight in all of his limbs, the fuzz in his head, but he knew that he couldn't hold himself together anymore. In just one moment out of a million, he'd lost his carefully-constructed control, and he was falling apart.

He didn't know why, but he fell apart all the same.

And between one sob and the next wail, between a frantic gulp of air and an agonized cry, a thought began to spread its roots in his brain and in his throat, so invasive that soon, he couldn't breathe, and he couldn't think of anything else.

Like hands around his throat, it left Soren choking and gasping, and all he could think of while he struggled was that his blood was cursed, that he would spend his life watching Ike step further and further away from him until he finally left him behind, and that no matter how much he waited and waited, he would never see him again once he left.

More than the fangs and the horns and the animalistic instinct, Soren realized that what he feared the most was the inexorable eventuality that he would one day have to bury the only man who had ever loved him.

He was never more grateful to be able to wake up when he finally did, the cell fading away, his screaming voice floating off, and the cold receding from his bones. When he opened his eyes, his real eyes, he realized that he was back in the infirmary of Fort Tantas, head pillowed on Ike's thigh, although his hand had fallen away from Ike's pulse in his sleep.

He made a move to grasp his wrist again, but nothing happened.

In fact, no part of him moved. Soren tried again, but he couldn't even blink. It felt like his body was light in composition, but anchored down firmly regardless. He couldn't describe it, but all he knew was that he was absolutely paralyzed.

His brain ran a mile a minute to try and figure out what was happening. The most plausible explanation was that he'd been hit with an extremely potent immobilization spell in his sleep. Yet, he couldn't fathom why. Ike was still moving, his chest in a steady rise and fall with each breath, and his eyelashes fluttering as he, too, dreamt his feverish dreams.

His next thought was interrupted by the sound of rustling clothes. It came from behind him. Soren tried so hard to move, his heart beating faster as he fought his frozen muscles, but he couldn't do anything but watch straight ahead as footsteps began to echo in the otherwise empty room.

The steps were slow and deliberate, following a calculated trajectory that only drew out the apprehension rising within Soren. He couldn't even move his eyes to glance sideways, but he knew, by the sound of the footsteps, that the person in question was almost within sight.

Soren kept fighting within himself, but he couldn't even produce a sound. Instead, he watched as a figure finally appeared in his peripheral vision, and then stopped.

It drove him crazy. He could now see the build of the person at the edge of his vision, but the details were indiscernible. The person must have known, for he waited a seeming eternity before stepping forward again, in slower steps than before.

And Soren knew. From the moment the figure stepped forward, he knew exactly who it was, and his heart began to hit his ribcage in a desperate attempt to shock him back into action.

But Soren could do nothing, not even pant for breath when it suddenly got caught in his throat. He felt like his entire body was trembling furiously, but no part of him moved. He didn't want to cry, but the powerlessness he felt alongside the terror, the unbridled fright of seeing this man walk back into his life, made his eyes sting. He wanted to move, he needed to move, or at least blink to be sure he wasn't just seeing things.

But no. Even though the man was only visible from the waist down from Soren's position on the floor, he knew that he wasn't hallucinating. He knew the man, so intimately that he could never hope to forget. He knew those hands, knew exactly how they felt constricting on his bare skin, and he knew that sword at his side, he knew that blade that the man was now making a move to draw, and-

Soren couldn't breathe.

He couldn't move, he couldn't breathe, he couldn't speak, and he didn't know what to do. For once in his life as a military general, as a tactician, as a powerful mage, as himself, he couldn't figure out what to do next. The blade rang out and vibrated as it was slowly pulled from its sheath, and clanged when the grip on it was adjusted. Blood was crusted underneath the nails clenched around the handle. The knuckles were white from the force of the grip. And the man had stopped right at the head of Ike's stretcher, centimeters away from his crisped face.

Ike would die like this, and Soren would be able to do nothing but watch.

 _Please_ , the word bubbled up his throat, scraping his throat and constricting his airways in its desperation, but it never came out. Soren's heart felt like it would break free of his flesh at any moment, loud enough to ring out in his skull and strong enough to beat harshly against the back of his knees. His skin felt like it was crawling with a million bugs that he couldn't shake off. He wanted to be sick.

The blade was so close, so close at it came upwards and then down, until it was pointed at Ike's throat, hovering just above the cartilage that bobbed each time he swallowed in his sleep.

 _Please_ , Soren tried to say again, screaming it in his own ears even though no words came out of his mouth. He was so scared that he felt like he would faint. He would do anything, anything to move.

The terror bottomed out in his abdomen, making him feel like a void had opened up inside of him, and in that moment, he felt nothing more than desperation.

A tiny gasp left his lips.

And all at once, he could move again.

He didn't even think, he didn't even stop to breathe before he threw himself over Ike's prone form, cradling his head in his arms and waiting for it to end. At this point, there was nothing he could do against their attacker, but he was determined to protect Ike until the very end.

He clutched Ike tight and waited.

However, within a minute, nothing had happened. Cautiously, Soren let go of Ike, and, not knowing whether or not he wanted to look up, he did.

Nobody was there.

The room was as empty as it was when Soren fell asleep. The door was still closed, and the string that Soren had tied on the grip as a tampering proof was still there, untouched. The windows had bars on them, making it impossible for anyone to access the infirmary from the outside.

There was no sign of anyone ever having been there, asides from them. However, Soren knew what he saw.

He knew what he'd seen, and knew he couldn't mistake it. He'd seen him. He really had.

Had he?

His heart was still beating harshly in his chest and he tired to catch his breath as silently as possible, glancing around in the darkness as if it would reveal the figure of his nightmares if he stared hard enough.

Nothing happened. The next time Soren was jolted out of it was when Ike finally shifted, and his hand came up to curl around Soren's wrist braced against his chest.

"Soren…?" he asked sleepily, blinking to dispel the exhaustion clouding his vision.

Soren turned down to look at him sharply, as if disbelieving that he was awake, and then looked at where he'd been gripped, realizing his position halfway over Ike's body.

"Ike." His voice felt rough, as if he had been screaming for a long time. He slowly got off of Ike and pulled away from him, retreating to sit on his knees by his head. "You're awake."

"I was out for a long time, wasn't I?" Ike grunted, trying to push himself up, but immediately swaying in his place. Soren rushed to help him sit up, and then hunch over.

"Don't move quickly or you'll be dizzy. The healers say that your infection will make your blood pressure very low until it's under control," Soren warned him, glad to be able to focus on something else than the terrifyingly confusing experience he'd just had.

"That blows," Ike grunted blinking rapidly, visibly dizzy as Soren had predicted. "Are you okay? Where are we?"

"I'm fine," Soren quickly assured him, settling back down on his knees. "We're in Fort Tantas, under the care of Lord Cuiper Tantas. You don't remember getting here?"

"I don't remember much since the night around the campfire, to be honest with you." Ike ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "It's fuzzy in my mind."

"That's alright. Nothing much happened." A lot had happened, but Soren wasn't about to burden him with this knowledge. "You fell unconscious when we were riding, and I rode us to the nearest place we could find help, which happened to be this place."

"Ironic, isn't it?" Ike offered him a half-formed smile, but Soren didn't have the energy to return it.

"Yes…"

They fell silent for a moment, each of them lost in their own thoughts. It was a peaceful silence, punctuated by the occasional ruffling of trees in the gentle midnight breeze outside. Soren didn't know how long it'd been since he'd fallen asleep, but it couldn't have been very long, although his dream had felt like decades. He didn't even know what to make of the strange experience he'd had on waking up. He didn't want to think of it.

"Are you alright, Soren?" Ike finally asked, glancing up at him. His face was a bit paler than before, not quite feverish, but not the usual healthy tan of his skin. "Tell me the way it is. You look like you've seen a ghost."

Had it been a ghost? Soren didn't even know.

"I just… thought I saw something," he explained unclearly.

"Something scary?" Ike pushed, lying back down with a wince when the exhaustion caught up with him.

"I suppose you could say so," Soren winced. "It just shook me a little."

"Alright." Ike fell silent, probably giving him a chance to elaborate, but Soren didn't want to talk about it if he could avoid it.

"You should sleep, Ike. You're still weak from the infection that's in your blood," he diverted away from the topic of himself rather obviously.

"I could." Ike shrugged. "But I'd rather stay up with you. You don't seem like you'll be getting any more sleep tonight."

Soren cursed Ike's ability to be strangely perceptive at the most inopportune moments. Of course, understandably, he didn't want to close his eyes again tonight, not that the dread still lining his brain would let him get any more rest for now.

"Did you have another nightmare?" Ike asked out of the blue, glancing innocently at Soren, who seemed a bit shaken.

"Another?"

"Since we escaped Fort Tevoyne, you haven't had a moment of rest where I haven't seen you fighting something in your mind's eye," Ike explained. "I haven't asked about them yet…"

"Now you are," Soren snapped a bit harshly, but softened immediately, knowing that Ike didn't have bad intentions. "I just… I don't want to talk about them."

"Are they about our captivity in Fort Tevoyne?" Ike pressed, and knew he'd gotten it right when Soren broke their eye contact. "Soren. It's nothing to be ashamed of. I had nightmares every night for weeks after I saw my father killed by Zelgius. They wouldn't stop until I asked Titania what to do about them, and she made me talk about them."

"I… I didn't know." Soren had arrived almost a week after Greil's death, so he hadn't been around for the worst of Ike's nightmares. He still suspected them, though. And throughout their years waging war, he'd been intimately acquainted with Ike's restless nights where he would be haunted by ghosts old and new. On those nights, Ike would wake up, and without a word, would go get some sword training done until dawn.

So of course, Soren knew that Ike had experienced his fair share of nightmares in his life, and course he knew that the best way to get rid of them was to get them off his mind… but he couldn't bring himself to admit his deepest demons to Ike.

"Soren." Ike called his attention again, his voice soft, inviting. "What's on your mind?"

"Have you ever…?" Soren swallowed heavily, unable to meet Ike's eyes as he wondered how to formulate his question. "Have you ever had a dream… but not while asleep? A nightmare with your eyes open?"

"Yeah," Ike nodded slowly, locking eyes with Soren's worried expression. "The night after my father was killed. I woke in my bed, but couldn't move. I saw the Black Night standing in the doorway, and although he didn't do anything, I was still really scared. I didn't want to sleep until I collapsed from exhaustion, after that. Rhys called it something like a paralyzed sleep."

"Oh." So, that's what it had been. A hallucination after all.

Still. Soren was tired of seeing Aventi Tevoyne in every single one of his waking and sleeping moments. He didn't know how much more of this he could take.

"What did you see?"

Soren knew that Ike was just being polite in asking. Both of them knew exactly what he'd seen.

"It's nothing."

"I wish you'd tell me what plagues you," Ike sighed. "We're on this journey together. And I wouldn't have asked you to leave Tellius with me if I wasn't ready to bear your burdens along the way. You've known me since we were young, Soren. Even before that, as children, you knew me. So can't you believe me when I say that I want to help you carry whatever is weighing on you?"

"I believe you, I just…" Soren let out a noise of frustration, and ran a hand through his hair. It caught in the tangles between dirty strands. "It just… feels ridiculous to say it."

"Soren." Ike looked at him as he busied himself with untangling the knots in his hair, at least to keep his hands occupied. "Listen to me, very closely."

"Hmm." Soren didn't look up from the tangle he was working.

"Soren." Ike reached out and caught his wrist, stopping his motions. Instead, he held up Soren's anxious gaze. "Listen to me."

The silence was taken as acquiescence of the request.

"You were tortured." Ike didn't mince his words, despite Soren flinching away from the heavy word. "You were physically, emotionally, and psychologically tortured in Fort Tevoyne. Whatever is still haunting you is not ridiculous. You have every right to be afraid."

"I shouldn't be."

"I'm glad you are," Ike pressed on, surprisingly wise with his quick replies. "I don't want you to keep these fears inside of you and let them change the person you are. Our goal was to leave Tellius and everything within it behind. I don't want you to carry these fears with you when we step on foreign soil. So, tell me."

And, of course, like every other sincere request Ike had ever made to him, just for him, Soren obliged.

"I'm a monster," he murmured, hanging his head. "I thought that a life of ridicule would've desensitized me to the knowledge that I was conceived a monster, and for a while, it didn't bother me anymore. Being with you, with an army who seemed not to care for such things… it almost made me forget how cursed my existence truly was. But… In the fort… with the drugs…"

Ike said nothing, and let Soren collect his thoughts. His grip left Soren's wrist, and found his hand instead.

"I'd… I'd almost forgotten, but the drugs made me into…" he gritted his teeth tightly. "An animal. They made me into the beast that had spent its lifetime dormant within me. And now, I know that this beast is there, awake, ready to take over at any time that I let my guard down."

"Like the night by the campfire," Ike completed solemnly, watching Soren glance away in shame.

"Like the night by the campfire," Soren confirmed, licking his lips when they suddenly felt dry. "It was like I blacked out during the hunt, and I came to awareness when you pulled me away. I had no idea what happened, but I… I could guess. And… losing control of myself like that, being controlled by some newly-awakened predator instinct in my blood… I hate it." Soren's face crisped in a surprisingly genuine show of despair. "My mind is all I have. And not being able to trust my own mind anymore, it's… it's killing me."

"Oh, Soren…" Of course, Ike found nothing to say to that. No empty reassurances could help untangle the mess of frankly very relevant fears woven in the forefront of Soren's mind. Soren would have to lead the charge on this problem, and for once, Ike could only support him from the sidelines.

"I just… I just can't imagine being at the mercy of whatever monster is part of me. It's never bothered me like this before. Now, I no longer just carry the stigma, I also carry the beast that people have always scorned me for. And I'll never know when it'll take over; it will, and I won't know what I've done until I wake."

Soren had every right to be afraid, and uncertain of the future. The thought of forcefully surrendering his conscious to some sort of subconscious instinct made Ike shudder. He couldn't imagine how terrifying it must've been for Soren each time he'd been overtaken by his new instincts. He couldn't imagine always being afraid of hurting the people he loved.

And when the two of them would be alone on their long journey towards the unknown, Soren would have nobody to turn on but Ike. The only person he'd die before hurting.

"We'll be together through it," Ike promised, which was the mixed blessing of the situation. "I'll make sure you don't hurt anyone and snap out of it quickly. You already know you're safe with me."

"I know." Soren didn't seem convinced, but Ike didn't ask him to be convinced at that moment. He simply asked that he convinced himself in time.

"We'll go out and travel the world together." His grip tightened on Soren's hand, and Soren finally squeezed back. "We'll leave this place behind, and in time, your instincts will become dormant again. We'll never get involved in anyone else's wars ever again, and we'll never have to fight battles that aren't ours anymore. We'll be safe together. I promise this to you, Soren. We're safe together."

Soren let out a deep sigh, his shoulders visibly unloading some of their weight, and bent over to touch his forehead to where Ike's fingers were still entwined with his.

"In due time," he murmured, his breath tickling Ike's callused skin, his lips brushing over the knuckle of his thumb with every syllable he pronounced. "Until then, this will have to do."

Ike glanced at the top of his head fondly, his lips etching a tiny smile, and he twisted onto his side to get closer to Soren. Dizziness struck him momentarily, but he blinked to clear the light-headedness before leaning forward, neck craned uncomfortably, and placing his nose into the crown of Soren's head.

"If I can remain by your side, I would ask for nothing more," he breathed into the strands of his hair, and that seemed to be it for that night.

…-…-…-…-…-…

It was late morning when Captain Sienne was asked to bring Soren and the potentially-recovered Ike to an audience with Lord Tantas. However, when she didn't find Soren in his assigned quarters, she sighed and made her way to the infirmary.

She found nobody there, either, except a healer doing inventory.

"Where are Sirs Ike and Soren?" she asked, frowning when she noted that Ike's previous stretcher was squeaky clean.

"They expressed the desire to go riding early this morning. They asked for one day's supply of medication just in case, and then left for the stables. I imagine they will be back for dinner," the healer explained light-heartedly.

"How strange not to announce their departure," Sienne muttered out loud, and thanked the healer before she walked down to the stables, a bit faster than before.

"Stable boy," she called as she walked in, waiting for the young teenager to run up to her, hands covered in dirt and straw sticking out of his hair. "Have you seen Sirs Ike and Soren? I was told they would go riding this morning."

"Oh yes, they came at dawn and asked to retrieve their beast of a mount. Good thing, too. Nobody here was able to tame that one," he laughed.

"Did they say where they were headed?" Sienne frowned at the image she was beginning to paint in her mind.

"No, but Sir Ike still seemed quite sickly, so I can't imagine that they went far. They did, however, bring their packs with them, in case something happened out there," the stable boy answered, his smile falling when Sienne suddenly groaned, clutching the bridge of her nose.

"By the Goddess…"

"Captain Sienne?" the stable boy questioned, worried at the pinched expression on her face. "What's wrong? Do you need something? Should we prepare something for their return?"

"Don't bother," Sienne sighed, and turned around, exiting the stables.

She would have to let Lord Tantas know that he'd be dining alone.

…-…-…-…-…-…

Out in the field, Soren rested under the cool shade of a lone tree while Ike took his medicine with water from their skin. Their departure that morning had been much less hurried from their departure from Fort Tevoyne, but no less stressful. Convincing the staff to let a very septic man go riding with someone who barely knew how to ride had not been as easy as Soren had first anticipated. At the very least, however, Soren had been able to convince multiple healers to hand him multiple doses of medicine, and had retrieved rations from the kitchens overnight, so they were well-off on their journey. This time, with no interruptions planned.

"Hey."

He broke out of his meditative state to the sound of Ike's gruff voice, and glanced up where Ike was standing, blocking out the sun. He had a small smile on his face as he watched Soren rest.

"Are you ready to go?" Ike asked him, reaching down. Soren accepted his hand to stand up.

"If you're in a passable condition to ride, then so am I," he answered, dusting off his robes with his free hand, but never letting go of Ike's.

"Then let's ride without stopping." Ike took Soren's other hand in his, and the two instinctively came a bit closer. Their bodies almost touched as they swayed in the gentle breeze, shielded in the shade of the lone tree. Their conversation died off for a moment as they simply admired each other, gazes locked, and bodies warm, their hands warm where they clutched each other with fervent passion.

It was a silent, but undeniable passion indeed.

"Let's go, then," Soren prompted in a soft voice, though neither of them moved, conscious of the fragility of the moment they'd created for themselves in this cocoon of safety away from the world. "There are worlds out there that await discovery. Just for you, and me."

Just for them, until time ran its course and Soren came to face his greatest fear once more. But until then, until that time, it would only be them, together, and nothing else mattered. Nothing else mattered.

"You, and me, Ike."

"You, and me, Soren… And Ragnell."

* * *

 **Author's Note**

 **Me? Write something serious? Sounds fake but okay.**

 **Hope you guys enjoyed the sequel, chock-full of disturbing PTSD and a glimpse at my intense medical accuracy kink. And IkeSoren, god I'm so soft for these boys, lord save my fuckin soul. This year, my resolution is to write, but also read more IkeSoren fics so like... writers out there... y'all gotta help me out :')**

 **Speaking of my medical accuracy kink, just wanted to explain Ike's thing. You know, the wound thing. The wound got infected, and since it was a penetrating abdominal wound, although it didn't bleed a lot, it did create an entry point to the abdominal cavity. The bacteria infected the peritoneum (abdominal lining), and peritonitis can become generalized to sepsis very quickly. With sepsis, you can get local infective signs (redness, abdomen hard and warm to touch, painful, swollen), and systemic signs such as fever, low blood pressure, rapid breathing and rapid pulse.**

 **Oh, and Soren had something called "sleep paralysis", where you basically dream with your eyes open and can't move throughout the experience. I've had it a couple of times in the past and though I remember being conscious that it was a dream, I couldn't move and I was fucking terrified. The first time, some faceless dude was just standing at the foot of my bed. The next time, the same faceless dude was in my closet. P sure we're friends now. I really wouldn't rather see him again tho, thanks very much. Sleep paralysis is terrifying.**

 **Also, remember how last time, I was bitching that I didn't have a Soren? I now have a Soren, and he's +10. He's a monster, no pun intended, very sorry to the Soren of this story who literally has war flashbacks on being called a monster. But he is. Add me on FEH, my code is 655 0789 219.**

 **Anyway. I imagine that in due time, Soren's animalistic instinct will recede and will leave him tf alone until he lives out his days with Ike. Still dunno how to feel about the whole "Soren is gonna outlive Ike" thing and I'm consciously not thinking about it! Fuck that! (: Wish my babies all the best in their adventuring outside Tellius and like... I really hope I have inspiration to write for them again. They're my ultimate ship across all the fandoms I've ever been in. No joke.**

 **Alrighty, peace out y'all. Please please please leave me some feedback, this fandom is underappreciated as is, we gotta support each other in these tough times u know. And of course, thank you so much for reading and supporting my works.**

 **-SS**


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